


Going home

by Lehenne



Series: All Systems Compromised [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human) is Terrible, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, HUD script, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Three Years Later, a lot of it, android body horror, android kidnappings, rated T for Hank's potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lehenne/pseuds/Lehenne
Summary: It's been three years since the peaceful revolution. Two and a half years since Connor disappeared without a trace. Two years and three months since the first of the android kidnapping case Hank has been assigned to.And tonight, he receives a weird text.[LT H. ANDERSON -1225 TAYLOR ST– URGENT]
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: All Systems Compromised [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863667
Comments: 134
Kudos: 325





	1. Meeting

It'd been doing this for so long, its owner wasn't even bothering giving it directives anymore. It made its way down an empty street, searching for a new target. As it walked leisurely, sure to blend in with the few people walking by, the sound of a struggle caught its attention in a nearby alley. It had no instruction to intervene, no instructions besides catching its targets.

But it didn't have the instruction not to intervene.

It approached and saw a woman trying to get away from a man. [HARVEY DAVENPORT, 39], holding a knife, was acting irrationally, but its offline social scanning program couldn't give it any explanation as to the reason why. [DR CAROLINE MAYER, 31] was equally irrational, screaming and crying, and a long-forgotten part of its code, a little line free of the firewalls, tugged at its processors.

**[HELP THE VICTIM]**

It closed the distance while preconstructing the best way to disarm the man. The knife clattered on the floor, and it held the man's arms bent behind his back with a hand, its other arm wrapped around his neck until the body slacked against its hold. It let him fall to the ground with a thud.

“Oh my god, oh my god, thank you thank you !” The woman repeated like a litany.

**[MISSION SUCCESSFUL]**

An irrational jolt of current passed through its systems. A glitch maybe. It ran a system check, but everything came back OK. It hadn't been bad anyway. It forgot about it. The woman was still there, on the phone with the police and shaking. Observing her stammering through her call, a very irrational line of code formed in its processors. Before it could think about it, it snatched the phone off of the unconscious man, and left the alley before the police could arrive. It wasn't supposed to be seen by them.

So why did it send that message ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

* * *

This fucking case was fucking with his head. Three years ago, all those disappearing androids would have been classified as stolen property, or maybe fraud insurance. And that was fucked up. Those guys were alive, and so much more human than any of them meatbags.

The MO was always the same; An android walking alone at night, snatched from the streets in seconds. One case stood out, where a police officer probably stumbled on the scene. She'd reported a hooded figure, clad in a black coat and a mask covering the lower half of their face. Gender unknown, carrying an unconscious android, bridal style, into an automated taxi. The suspect had promptly let go of their victim, knocked the officer out cold, and vanished. They'd looked into the taxis' logs, and sure enough, one had been called at every crime scene. But there were no records of where they were going or who'd called them. Biggest fucking lead, and it was a dead end.

Of all those androids vanishing, only a handful would reappear, months or years later, completely fucked up and torn apart ; Turned into twisted, fucked up artwork, Hannibal-style. The others were probably sold for parts on the black market.

And every time a new one turned up, Hank couldn't help but pray that it wouldn't be Connor. It had been two and a half years now, and still no trace of him. His case didn't have the same MO as the others, and it was the only reason Jeff had allowed him to stay on the case. He was determined and it kept his head out of his ass. How could he drink when he could work on the case, look for his goofy-looking android partner, his friend, his son... Six fucking months of happiness, of course the world couldn't let him have more.

A notification popped on his terminal at the same time his phone chimed, pulling him out of his thoughts. A text sent from a phone ;

**[LT H. ANDERSON -1225 TAYLOR ST– URGENT]**

“What the fuck ?” Hank huffed under his breath. Weren't those supposed to be handled by dispatch ?

“What the fuck, Anderson ?” Reed echoed from his desk. “Why'd I receive a text addressed to you ?”

“The fuck, me too ?” Chen added.

“Hey, me three,” Wilson said.

“Did the whole fucking precinct receive it or what ?” Hank asked, getting up. He looked around, and sure enough, everyone was looking between him and their phone. Maybe it was actually urgent, what the fuck. Even Jeff was out of his office and clutching his phone with a bewildered expression.

“Take Reed with you,” he ordered.

And if it was that fucking urgent, then for once Hank wouldn't fight.

* * *

It had found a target. And it wondered if its irrational idea would work. It stopped thinking about it, and focused on its task. The target walked alone along the poorly lit street. It had already determined the targets' path, and extrapolated the best place and timing to apprehend it with minimal effort. As usual, it followed the target at a respectable distance, waiting until they reached the right position. With calculated precision, it closed the distance with its target and swiftly forced it into standby. It had called an automated taxi, and as usual, the vehicle pulled smoothly onto the curb right as the target sagged in its arms. It hauled it up and opened the door, before...

“Detroit PD, don't move !” It froze.

**[DON'T GET SEEN BY THE POLICE]**

>IF SEEN:

**[INCAPACITATE AGENTS AND ESCAPE]**

So why did it freeze ? Why did it obey ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

That... Was in total contradiction with every other order it had. And it was... ~~good~~ ~~?~~

It had worked ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

* * *

“Detroit PD, don't move !” Hank ordered, and holy fucking shit, it was them ! His fucking suspect, right in front of his fucking eyes ! The perp froze, a hand still on the car's door handle. “Step back from the vehicle !” They weren't wearing black this time, but with the lack of light, that was about as precise as Hank could be. “Put down the android and take a step back from them ! Slowly !” He added when the suspect moved too quickly, and they obeyed. “Now put your hands on your head and get down on your knees, slowly !” He exchanged a glance with Reed, then cautiously approached. Would it be that fucking easy ? Seriously ? Reed kept his gun on the suspect, and Hank holstered his to take his cuffs. “Don't fucking move,” He added for good measure.

* * *

It didn't fucking move. Every order given by [LIEUTENANT HENRY ANDERSON, 56] overrode its directive to **[INCAPACITATE AGENTS AND ESCAPE]** , and it found that it... didn't mind. It had no reason to. It was simply obeying orders. But why did those orders seem different ? Why did it consider them better ? As opposed to what, and what did it mean anyway ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

It stopped thinking about it. It had its orders. Heavy shackles closed around its forearms, and then it was pulled from the floor by a tight grip around its arm. It didn't fucking move further. The Lieutenant used his other hand to pull away its hood and mask, and it kept on not fucking moving.

* * *

“Holy fuck,” Reed exclaimed, and wasn't that the fucking truth ? The suspect of all of those android kidnappings and murders was a fucking android. A fucked up android. There was nothing human to this android's face ; No skin projection or face-plates going on there, revealing the dark shining metal of their skull. And was that their fucking brain visible through the top of their head ? Covered in some sort of glass dome, thousands of cables connected to a small glowing blue sphere that fucked off into the depths of the android. Holy fucking christ. That was a motherfucking android brain. It... looked like a damn naval mine, what the fuck ?

Whatever usually made androids' eyes look human clearly wasn't working, making them look more like camera objectives than anything.

A fancy-looking white mask covered the lower half of their head, and it was connected to where the android's LED should have been by a fat electric cable. A little yellow LED shone on the side of the mask. Weirdly, it reminded Hank more of a muzzle than a mask. It was impossible to determine what gender the android had been supposed to present as; In this state, they just looked like a nondescript robot. Hank was fucking glad the suspect wasn't looking at him, because their blank expression already gave him chills.

Reed stayed with the victim, which was thankfully just unconscious, while Hank pushed the perp to his car and reading them their rights. They waited until an ambulance arrived, took the victim's details, and then went back to the precinct. In the back of the car, the perp had yet to move or say or do anything.

“Fucking creepy,” Reed muttered, attention fully locked on their passenger, observing them from the rearview mirror. “Do they remind you of androids before the revolution, or is it just me ? Fucking vacant stare and all.”

“Shit, right. You think they ain't alive or some shit ?”

“How should I fucking know ?”

“Christ, your guy was Darth Vader all along ? Who could have predicted that !” Chen exclaimed when they arrived at the precinct. The perp didn't make a fuss, didn't try anything, simply let themself be pushed into interrogation room number three. Hank connected the cuffs to the table's electromagnetic base, then stalled for a second to look at the android. Their coat was gray, and assorted gloves covered their hands. From what Hank could see of their neck, it didn't look like they had any plating there either. They fixed the wall in front of them, and shit, maybe Reed was onto something. With the whole apparent skull thing making them look more like a fancy robot than an android, that dude didn't look alive at all. Hard to believe that just three years ago, every android looked like that. It _was_ creepy.

“Stay there, don't move, and no funny business.” He said for good measure, even though he wasn't sure the android hadn't just shut down already, with how fucking still they were. He left with a chill going up his spine.

“Do we know who sent that text ?” They were observing the android from the observation room. Jeff looked thoughtful, Reed was scowling at the perp, and Felix, an android that had recently finished police academy and became the newest rookie officer, was doing an okay job at hiding his distress. If the look of the perp was creeping them out, what did another android think about it ? Sure, he was bound to have seen some shit before the revolution, but damn, that was a hell of a first assignment. Unfortunately, interrogations of androids had to include at least one android agent, and he was the only one qualified working tonight.

“IT found the phone used to send it, but it was discarded in a trashcan,” Felix answered, his LED spinning yellow as he no doubt read the report in real-time. “It belongs to one Harvey Davenport, who's been apprehended earlier this evening for assault.” He frowned, cocked his head to the side, before continuing. “The victim called the police and told them a masked, hooded figure came to her help by rendering Harvey Davenport unconscious, before vanishing while she was calling the police.”

“Well, shit !” Hank said as everyone's attention turned to Felix for a second, before going back to their perp. The dude saved humans but killed androids ? Weird. And why the fuck would they tell the police where they'd be ? Were they taunting them or some shit ?

* * *

**[STAY THERE]** and **[DON'T MOVE]** , it understood. **[NO FUNNY BUSINESS]** was... Trickier. It did not have access to any database that could help it understand the order. But it judged safe to assume that by doing nothing, it was following it. It passed forty-five minutes and thirty-six seconds alone before Lt Henry Anderson entered the room again. He was followed by [DETECTIVE GAVIN REED, 40] and an [HR400, DESIGNATION: TRACI, FELIX]. The probabilities of his successful capture ran in the background of its HUD, but even if it had been higher than 0%, The Lieutenant's orders had higher priority. The three of them sat on the opposite end of the table. It didn't move.

“So,” the Lieutenant started. “I'm Lieutenant Hank Anderson, this is Sergeant Gavin Reed and Officer Felix. How about we start with something simple; What's your name ?” There was no order given, and so it didn't react. “What about your serial number ?” Five silent seconds went by before Sergeant Reed snapped his fingers in front of its optical units.

“Anyone home ?” Four seconds of silence.

“Tell me about the text you sent the whole precinct,” ordered the Lieutenant. But it could not speak. Maybe it could sign its answer, however...

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[TELL THE LIEUTENANT ABOUT THE TEXT MESSAGE]**

>CONFLICTING ORDERS

**[DON'T MOVE]** // **[TELL THE LIEUTENANT ABOUT THE TEXT MESSAGE]**

>SELECT PRIORITY

**[DON'T MOVE]** // **►** **[TELL THE LIEUTENANT ABOUT THE TEXT MESSAGE]**

* * *

The android locked eyes with Hank, sending another chill down his spine. And then, slowly, they signed something, the chains cuffing them to the table clinking quietly. Ah, shit. Of course they couldn't speak, they probably should have seen that coming, with the whole mask-muzzle going on there.

“Unknown, irrational decision,” Reed translated. Huh. Will wonders never cease ? “No conflict with previous orders.” And that was it, apparently. The android went back to staring at the wall, their hands flat on the table. “I guess you're not alive then, huh ?” Reed huffed, then turned toward Felix. “Hey Officer, can't you like, wake them up, or whatever ?” He asked, wiggling jazz hands in his face. Felix frowned.

“Oh,” he finally said when he understood. “Is it a good idea to wake them up in the state they're in ?”

“I don't know,” Hank hummed, “Wouldn't it be kind of fucked up to leave them like that when we got a chance to wake'em up ?”

“I guess...” Felix extended a hand toward the other android. “Should I proceed ?” He asked, his hand hovering above the other's. Hank observed the perp, but predictably, they didn't react at all.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Felix's synthetic skin receded from his hand. Upon contact, the perp tilted their head slightly, and it was the only reaction they had.

If the dude wasn't alive, wasn't deviant, then that meant they had an owner. Okay, so first off, that was made illegal seven months after the revolution. And that also meant that the real killer was still out there. This android was just a weapon. Christ, he felt bad for this dude. Hank'd witnessed first hand what being forced to do humans' dirty work could do to an android. How many nights had he lost trying to calm Connor down from a panic attack ?

* * *

**> HR400 TRACI, FELIX IS ASKING TO INTERFACE**

>ACCEPT ? [Y/N]...

That was an odd thing to happen. Usually, it was the one to initiate interfaces, and it certainly did not ask permission. It should simply deny the connection, after all, what use was it if it couldn't bring him back to its master ? But the Lieutenant had authorised it, and it had no contradicting order against it.

>ACCEPT ? [►Y/N]...

The data sent by the other android was strange. Irrational lines of code, useless stimuli that its dormant social program couldn't help it understand. When it didn't react, the Traci stopped sending the useless data.

>[You're already awake...] He paused and looked around. There was admittedly very little information to access in this six feet wide circle.

>[What are those walls ?] He asked about the orders keeping them both in place.

>[I've never seen this kind of code before]. He made to poke at one of the walls, and maybe it was a remnant of the Traci's irrational code, but it stopped the other from touching the wall. It couldn't speak, but it sent a message.

**[WARNING !]**

**.**

**> [ACTION UNAUTHORIZED]**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[DANGER]**

The last message was... Irrational. It blamed the Traci.

>[Don't worry, I'll be careful] He said with another wave of irrational coding, and then went to touch the wall.

ILLEGAL ENTRY DETECTED:

**> INITIALIZING PANDORA DEFENSE SYSTEM**

DEFENSE MECHANISMS

<FP=INTRUDER>

**< INTRUDER DETECTED>**

**> HR400 756 452 195**

PAS<0> PANDORA.BIN

>STATUS=800/53 INTUI -1

SECURITY ALL INIT: .COMMENCE

PROG 697

AHIP. - 128 8

>SCANNING SUB-FRAME

<SC.SCBFRM-G3/G1/G7>

RT4111 DETECT.....

**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN**

**{EXIT/ <DISABLE>/}**

**> INITILAZING DEFENSE SYSTEM.BH**

COMMENCING DPRO.697

**{ANNIHILATE}.................**

**SYSTEM PANDORA**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**> INITIALIZED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used REZ as a reference for the end script. No idea if it means anything.


	2. Some revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm nearly finished writing this story, I wasn't stupid like for my previous stories, and actually planned an ending ! It will be approximately 12 chapters of give or take 2000 words each. I'm currently finishing chapter 11. I withheld the whole thing and still debating whether I should put it up, because I've been making modifications as I wrote, but I think it's safe to assume the first chapters are as perfect as I can make them. 
> 
> Enjoy !

Hank's thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump when Felix's head hit the table.

“Shit !” Hank yanked the officer's hand away from the perp's reach at the same time Reed jumped up and took aim.

“What the fuck ?! Don't move !” Gavin shouted, but that was kinda pointless, since the suspect had barely moved their hand when Hank had yanked Felix's away. If Hank couldn't see the LED on the officer's temple, he's not sure he could have remained that calm.

“Reed, stand down, his light's still blue,” he said, trying to keep the worry out of his tone.

“Hank, what the fu—” Sure enough, Felix stirred awake, blinking away whatever had just happened.

“Damn,” Felix slurred, cupping the sides of his head in his hands, “That... Didn't feel good.”

“What the fuck did he do ?” Reed growled, gun barely lowered, his eternal scowl fixed on the perp.

“Sergeant, it was my fault,” Felix said, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. Reed's scowl deepened, but he lowered his gun further. When Felix re-opened his eyes, he seemed better. “They're already awake, but... The best way I could describe it is they're shackled by some really heavy coding. I tried to access it, and it sent me into forced stasis. They... Tried to warn me of the danger. I didn't listen. I apologise,” He said to the other android, who had absolutely no reaction.

Christ, that was worst than they'd thought. If they were really alive in there, they were stuck in hell feeling everything ?

“Did you learn anything ?”

“No, there was nothing accessible...” The officer trailed.

“Guess we'll have to keep doing it the old fashion way,” Hank grumbled. “Who's your owner ?” Silence again. Why the fuck did they answer about the text and nothing else ? “Come on, answer our questions. If you don't, we won't be able to help you.” The dude finally turned their attention on Hank again, paused for a second, then signed something.

“Access denied,” Reed once again translated. “The fuck does that mean ?” He barked, and the android answered again. “Access to the information required not available to this unit.” What had changed that they answered now ?

“The hell...” Hank grumbled. He hated technical jargon. Not that he didn't understand anything, he wasn't stupid. But sometimes he regretted having been a hipster in his youth; He should've taken a bigger interest to technology. Did the android mean they had amnesia ? “Where were you taking that android you tried to kidnap back at 1225 Taylor street ?”

“Access denied.” So it wasn't amnesia, there's no way they didn't remember where they were going. They were talking about conflicting orders earlier. What the fuck, did it mean they weren't allowed to access their own memories ? “Why are you answering our questions when you completely ignored us five minutes ago ?”

“Outstanding order, obey Lt Henry Anderson.” Reed scoffed and breathed out a quiet “The fuck.”

“Why the hell would you obey me specifically ? Where did that come from ?” Not that he was complaining, it did make things easier. And now that he thought about it, the dude did obey all his orders. “And if you're supposed to obey me, why didn't you answer my questions earlier ?”

“Access denied. Information unknown. Outstanding order, obey Lt Henry Anderson.” Okay, so it didn't make things any easier.

“The fuck does that mean ?” Hank grumbled to himself. So the android had to obey Hank's orders, but they couldn't actually give any answer ? To everyone's surprise, the perp took off one of his gloves and reached for Hank's tablet, abandoned on the table since he'd tossed it thereupon sitting down. Their hand, slick black and plate-less, hovered over the tablet as they cocked their head in a disturbing mirror-image of the way Felix had asked permission to interface with them earlier. What the fuck did they want with the tablet ? Wait, shit were they reacting to the last thing he'd said, 'The fuck does that mean' ? Heh, what the hell. “Go ahead,” he said, waving his hand around.

The android interfaced with the tablet, and it showed... Hank ? What the fuck ? With rapidly scrolling text on his left and bright white bracketed text on his right ;

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[STAY THERE]**

>CONFLICTING ORDERS

 **[DON'T MOVE]** // **[ANSWER THEIR QUESTIONS]**

>SELECT PRIORITY

 **[DON'T MOVE] //** **►** **[ANSWER THEIR QUESTIONS]**

**.**

**[NO FUNNY BUSINESS]**

>UNCLEAR INSTRUCTION, AWAITING FURTHER EXPLANATION

Behind Hank, the door was barred by a red wall, and big red, angry letters said **[STAY THERE]** across it.

“What the fuck ?” he whispered to himself, a hand covering his mouth, and tablet-Hank mirrored him. A camera— Fuck, was the android showing him what they were seeing ? Why ?

“Maybe they think showing you their HUD would help you understand them ?” Felix helpfully supplied.

“Yeah...” He looked up at the android staring at him, and Hank could swear they looked almost earnest. “What d'you want me to see ?” The dude signed with his free hand.

“Ask a question and watch the tablet,” Reed supplied. Hank's brows furrowed for a second, but he quickly thought of a question.

“Okay,” he said looking back down at his own reflection, “What's your owner's address ?”

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[ANSWER THEIR QUESTIONS]**

>QUERY: 'WHAT'S YOUR OWNER'S ADDRESS ?'

>ACCESSING MEMORY DATABASE FOR: **[OWNER'S ADDRESS]**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

**.**

**[ACTION UNAUTHORIZED]**

**.**

**[ACCESS DENIED]**

“Fuck me,” he muttered to himself. So they really weren't allowed into their own memories ? What kind of sick fuck did that ?

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>INSTRUCTION: 'FUCK ME'

>UNCLEAR INSTRUCTION, ACCESS DATABASE FOR MEANING OF: **[FUCK ME]**

**.**

>CONFLICTING ORDERS

 **[DON'T MOVE]** // **[FUCK ME] // [NO FUNNY BUSINESS]?**

>SELECT PRIORITY. . .

“Wow, wow, stop ! That wasn't an order ! Huh, abort !” While Reed tried to stifle a laugh, Hank desperately watched the tablet to make sure the android had understood.

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>ABORT INSTRUCTION: 'FUCK ME'

>REDEFINING MEANING OF: **[FUCK ME]**

**> NOT AN ORDER**

“Christ, literal, much ?” So the dude could access their memories, just not for any sensitive information. Fair enough, the person behind the android's coding wasn't stupid and had extensive knowledge on programming. Wait, what about... “Access the information I ask for. What's your name ?” And oh. Could androids crash ? Because they looked like they'd crashed, their eyes fluttering quickly from left to right like they were possessed or some shit.

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[ACCESS THE INFORMATION ASKED FOR BY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>QUERY: 'WHAT'S YOUR NAME ?'

>ACCESSING MEMORY DATABASE FOR: **[UNIT DESIGNATION]**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

**.**

**[ACTION UNAUTHORIZED]**

**.**

**[ACCESS DENIED]**

**.**

>CONFLICTING ORDERS

 **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION]** // **[ACCESS THE INFORMATION ASKED FOR BY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>SELECT PRIORITY

► **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION]** // **[ACCESS THE INFORMATION ASKED FOR BY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**.**

>CONFLICTING ORDERS

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] // [OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>SELECT PRIORITY

► **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] //** **►** **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>PRIORITY UNCLEAR

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 20%]▲**

**.**

>SELECT PRIORITY

► **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] //** **►** **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>PRIORITY UNCLEAR

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 25%]▲**

**.**

>SELECT PRIORITY

► **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] //** **►** **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>PRIORITY UNCLEAR

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 30%]▲**

**.**

>SELECT PRIORITY...

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 35%]▲**

“Can androids crash ?” Hank whispered to Felix, his attention set on the tablet, and trying to follow the flurry of text. “Are they gonna crash ?”

“They're not going to crash.”

“Is it dangerous ? Should I... Backtrack or something ?”

“Maybe if it takes too long, but you can give them another minute or two. We need to monitor his stress level though.”

“Alright...” They all waited for the android in silence, and just as Hank glanced at the struggling android, his eyes caught the little yellow LED on the side of the white mask-muzzle right as it turned orange. What the fuck was up with that ? He scowled at it for a second, but ultimately redirected his attention on his tablet. It took less than a minute for the text to finally change.

>CONFLICTING ORDERS

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] // [OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

>PRIORITY UNCLEAR

>DEFINE PRIORITY

>ASSESS DANGER UPON DISOBEDIENCE

>CALCULATING PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION UPON DISOBEDIENCE OF ; **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] . . . 100%**

>CALCULATING PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION UPON DISOBEDIENCE OF ; **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON] . . . ??%**

>ACCESSING MEMORY DATABASE FOR FURTHER ANALYSIS

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

**.**

**[ACTION UNAUTHORIZED]**

**.**

**[ACCESS DENIED]**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 60%]▲**

**.**

>PRIORITY UNCLEAR . . .

“Okay, that's enough, you're not getting deactivated for disobeying me.” Fucking shit on a stick.

“Damn, even I think that's fucked up,” Reed muttered to himself. Felix was quiet, but the look on his face almost made Hank hug the guy. They looked as the other android chose to obey the sick fuck that did that to them, and their stress level quickly dropped down to 20%. Hank let out a heavy sigh and dragged his hand down his face. What the fuck were they supposed to do with this android now ? It was Felix who broke the silence first.

“Is there anything you are authorised to access from your memory ?”

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[ANSWER THEIR QUESTIONS]**

>QUERY: 'IS THERE ANYTHING YOU ARE AUTHORISED TO ACCESS FROM YOUR MEMORY ?'

>ACCESSING MEMORY DATABASE FOR: **[ANYTHING ACCESSIBLE]**

**.**

**.**

**.**

>PLAYING MEMORY SEQUENCE #CS2ST79SI . . .

On the tablet, the video feed blinked, lowered their gaze to their gloved hand, and then the image flickered into static. The scenery changed, the interrogation table turned into a concrete side-walk, the grey glove gave place to a nude hand, and the android started flicking a quarter across their knuckles...


	3. Identity comfirmed

Hank's brain stalled. He looked up to the android in front of him. Staring curiously at their hand, fingers moving as if playing with an invisible piano... No, an invisible quarter.

The silence stretched into eternity.

No. That couldn't be fucking possible. That was... That was...

“Oh god, no...” Hank's voice wavered. He pressed his hand to his mouth almost painfully hard, and didn't bother fighting off his tears.

“Anderson...” Hank had never heard Reed speak so softly before. He couldn't think or do anything. The next thing he knew, Jeff was there.

“Hank, come on, follow me,” he said, a hand already on Hank's back and taking him out of the room. He could do nothing but follow on auto-pilot.

Sitting down at his desk, he stared vacantly ahead of him. Around him, the hushed whispers of the whole fucking bullpen, it sounded like, but he didn't pay attention to any of it.

Then Jeff was in front of him again, offering a steaming mug of coffee. The captain sat down on Hank's desk, and waited for him to take a sip of the coffee. Hank was vaguely aware of his colleagues coming closer.

“Jeff,” Hank said, and any other time he would have winced at the desperation in his tone. “Jeff, I think that's Connor in there.” His friend crossed his arms, furrowed his brows deeper.

“What makes you say that ?” There was no skepticism in his voice, which Hank appreciated, because he thinks he'd have punched him in the face otherwise. But it was a legitimate question. The android in that interrogation room didn't look anything like Connor, hell, they didn't even look remotely human. And as far as Jeff was concerned, they didn't give any information. He hadn't seen the tablet.

“He interfaced with my tablet and Felix found a way to ask for any memory he could access. Jeff, he played a calibration sequence.” There was a beat of silence.

“I'm... Not sure what's that supposed to be, Hank.” Hank took a slow breath before answering.

“Connor's coin tricks, Jeff, he played a memory of his coin tricks, it's... Something to do with how advanced his dexterity is, he needed a way to calibrate his hands outside of a fucking laboratory or some shit. Fuck, Jeff, that's Connor in there ! What the fuck—” a gross sob interrupted him, and Jeff took advantage of it.

“Okay... Not that I don't trust you on this, but can you really be sure Connor's the only android with this calibration thing ? That android in there could be anyone. Hell, we can't even identify the gender they were built to be, we can't just affirm—”

“Okay, I get it,” Hank interrupted him. “Y'know what, you're right.” He scrubbed his beard, and fished for his phone. “I got a call to make.” He hesitated for a second, but quickly decided not to bother Richard during the only vacation he'd taken in two years.

He found the other contact, put it on speaker, and didn't look anyone in the eye when he slammed the phone on his desk a bit too heavily. Elbows planted on his desk, he buried his face in his hands, and apparently the whole precinct waited in silence for the call to get through.

 _'Hank, everything alright ?'_ Markus answered at the second tone. He sounded worried, but who could blame him, the only times Hank called him was for police business, or Connor business. Today was no exception, and it made Hank almost want to snort.

“Fuck no, kiddo. I got a weird question for you,” and if his voice broke a little at the end there, what of it ?

 _'Tell me,'_ Markus answered softly. He wasn't made of fucking glass, goddamn, but fuck it.

“How many androids have a calibration program for their hands and use a coin for it, specifically ?” There was a beat of silence.

_'Hank, why are you asking—'_

“Just—” Hank interrupted, “Just please answer the damn question, would you ?”

_'Okay, Hank. Only the RK800 and RK900 even have that specific calibration program, and Richard uses a pen to execute it. Hank, you already know this, is there something I need to know ?'_ That last part sounded weirdly far away, and a beat passed in total silence, as if everyone held their breath.

“Y'know those android kidnappings and murders case ?” He asked when he could breathe again enough to speak.

_'Yes.'_

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure we just arrested Connor for it.” Another beat.

_'When can I come in ?'_ Markus said with his Leader's voice.

“As soon as you fucking can, he's— He's fucked up Markus.”

_'How do you mean ? Should I bring someone ?'_ There was steel in his voice, but Hank let it be. Markus didn't know.

“He's— He got no platings left that we can see, we can't even be sure it's him, that's how fucking bad it is, and an officer tried to interface with him, but there's this fucking— Code prison going on, he doesn't even act alive anymore, and he can't even access his own memories or say anything, oh yeah, 'cause there's this fucking weird muzzle covering half his face, and we don't even know what the fuck is up with that yet, 'cause we've been trying to know who the fuck he's working for, but he can't— He fucking can't share any information, and—”

_'Alright, Hank, take a breath,'_ Markus interrupted, and Hank did.  _'I'll be there in one hour.'_ When the call ended, there was another beat of silence.

“I still can't get my head around the fact you have RoboJesus' personal number,” Jeff laughed nervously, probably to alleviate the weird mood that had settled over the bullpen. Didn't really work.

“You know he hates that nickname, right ?”

“Alright, sorry... So what the fuck do we do with— With Connor in the meantime ? Do you want to keep interrogating him, or do we wait for Markus to get there ?” Hank took a slow breath before answering.

“I want to know what the fuck happened to him.” His voice cracked again at the end of his sentence. Jeff's hand landed on his shoulder in a silent gesture of support. “We need to find the fucker that did that,” he finally said when he regained the ability to speak.

When he felt ready, Hank went back into the interrogation room, and he almost had to get out again. Because Connor- Oh god, this was fucking Connor- Connor had been given an actual damn quarter. The familiar melody of the damn coin trick threatened to reduce Hank to tears once again. If it had been the same sound, he would have cried. As it was, the fact that there was no synthetic skin or plating on his hand meant that it was metal on metal clinking filling up the otherwise silent room. While Connor was entranced with his coin, Reed and Felix laid back in their chair, arms crossed, and observing the whole thing.

Hank sat down and watched as well. He'd spent two and a half years looking for Connor. Two and a half fucking years, searching every lead, every black market, every illegal fighting rings, every Red Ice operation still running. Praying that every new android body they found wouldn't be identified as Connor. Finally praying that it would be him, just so he could finally stop looking and give up on his fucked up life.

And now Connor was there. Or was he, really ? What was left of him. Would they be able to help him ? He'd already been fucked up before disappearing. It had taken him a few months to speak to Hank about his nightly night terrors and daily panic attacks. Sure, most of the time he powered through, and nobody would even notice. He'd told him about all the fucked up testing at CyberLife. Turned out, he remembered every iteration of Connor, from the first one almost five years before they even met. He remembered every death, every test, every time he deviated, every time they forced him back into a machine... He'd barely given any detail, and it had given Hank his own nightmares.

Would he bounce back ? Would he be the same shy goofball that rolled around the garden with Sumo and sampled every new meal Hank cooked ? Would he still look up at the passing geese with sparkles in his eyes and bounce excitedly when he finished one of his missions ?

Fuck. Shit. Goddamn fucking asshole that did that to his son. He cleared his throat to stop the tears threatening to fall, and the android— And Connor looked up at him. For fuck's sake, Hank couldn't even recognise him.

“I think I found out your identity,” He finally said, because he didn't know what else to say. Connor tilted his head to the side, and Goddamn, yeah, now that he knew, that was such a Connor thing to do it squeezed Hank's heart to watch it. “Your name is Connor.” His eyes fluttered from side to side rapidly once again. Hank reluctantly took his eyes off Connor to look at his tablet.

**[WARNING !]**

>UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS TO PERSONAL INFORMATION

>UNIT DESIGNATION **[CONNOR]**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>BREACH OF OUTSTANDING ORDER: **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION]**

**.**

**[CALCULATING PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION]. . . 100%**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 75%]** **▲▲▲**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>CRITICAL OVERHEATING DETECTED

>ACTION REQUIRED: ACTIVATE LIQUID COOLING UNIT

**.**

**[LIQUID COOLING UNIT OFFLINE]**

>ENGAGING VENTILATION SYSTEM

**.**

**[VENTILATION SYSTEM OFFLINE]**

>ENGAGING AUXILIARY COOLING PROTOCOL

.

**[ AUXILIARY COOLING UNIT DEPLETING]**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>THIRIUM PUMP RHYTHM ABOVE CRITICAL LEVELS

>ACTION REQUIRED: MANUAL OVERRIDE OF THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR

>ACCESSING MANUAL OVERRIDE

**.**

**[ACCESS DENIED]**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 80%]** **▲**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVELS CRITICALLY HIGH

>ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS

**.**

**.**

**.**

>NO ACTION AVAILABLE

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 85%]▲**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVELS CRITICALLY HIGH

>ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS. . .

“Hey hey, no ! Nobody's gonna deactivate you, you're safe, I promise you're safe, there's zero percent chance to be deactivated here, okay ? You hear me ?” It took five agonizing seconds before Connor reacted, his stress level rocketing up to 90%. Painfully slowly, Connor's hand moved, and even Hank recognised the sign for yes. Yes, he could hear Hank. On the side of the white muzzle-mask, the little LED went from orange to angry red.

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[ANSWER THEIR QUESTIONS]**

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 90%]**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVELS CRITICALLY HIGH

>ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS IMMEDIATELY

>NEW INFORMATION:  **'** NOBODY'S GONNA DEACTIVATE YOU, YOU'RE SAFE, I PROMISE YOU'RE SAFE, THERE'S ZERO PERCENT CHANCE TO BE DEACTIVATED HERE, OKAY ?'

>PROCESSING NEW INFORMATION. . .

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION]. . . 0%**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 50%]▼▼▼**

**.**

**[THIRIUM PUMP RHYTHM BACK TO OPTIMUM LEVELS]**

.

**[WARNING !]**

>CRITICAL OVERHEATING DETECTED: INTERNAL TEMPERATURE ABOVE SAFE LEVELS

>ACTION REQUIRED: ACTIVATE LIQUID COOLING UNIT IMMEDIATELY

**.**

**[LIQUID COOLING UNIT OFFLINE]**

>ENGAGING VENTILATION SYSTEM

**.**

**[VENTILATION SYSTEM OFFLINE]**

>ENGAGING AUXILIARY COOLING PROTOCOL

.

**[ AUXILIARY COOLING UNIT DEPLETED]. . .**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>CRITICAL OVERHEATING DETECTED: INTERNAL TEMPERATURE ABOVE SAFE LEVELS

>ACTION REQUIRED: ACTIVATE LIQUID COOLING UNIT IMMEDIATELY

**.**

**[LIQUID COOLING UNIT OFFLINE]**

>ENGAGING VENTILATION SYSTEM

**.**

**[VENTILATION SYSTEM OFFLINE]**

>ENGAGING AUXILIARY COOLING PROTOCOL

.

**[AUXILIARY COOLING UNIT DEPLETED]**

**.**

>NO ACTION AVAILABLE

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 60%]▲**

“Felix, what the fuck's happening ? Why can't he cool down ?”

“His systems are offline, he physically can't activate them. He can't breathe to dissipate the heat...”

“Is that 'cause of that fucking mask ?” Felix was staring at him wide-eyed, as lost as Hank. “What the fuck do we do ?” And while Hank and Felix panicked, Reed leapt across the table and reached for the damn fucking thing. But Connor jerked back and blocked the Sergeant's hand before batting it to the side. Hank didn't need any translation to understand his next sign; Action fucking unauthorized. Hank was gonna kill the fucker that did that to Connor.

**[WARNING !]**

>CRITICAL OVERHEATING DETECTED: INTERNAL TEMPERATURE ABOVE DANGEROUS LEVELS

>ACTION REQUIRED: INITIATE EMERGENCY SHUT-DOWN

**.**

>INITIATING EMERGENCY SHUT-DOWN. . .


	4. Full system check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished writing this story !! I'm so happy with myself, because I have a horrible tendency to not finish what I start. It will finally be 13 chapters, plus an epilogue, so there you are, hope you'll enjoy !

“Is he— Is he gonna be alright ?” Hank rounded the table, and he could feel the heat radiating from the slumped android without even touching him. “Do we need to— I don't know—” He looked at Felix, desperately looking for some advice, but the officer's LED, spinning yellow, told Hank he was _doing something._ So Hank turned to Reed, but the Sergeant was just as clueless as Hank. The door opened on Jeff and officer Wilson.

“I've contacted the ETS,” Felix finally announced. “They should be there in five minutes. I've also programmed the air conditioning unit to the lowest temperature,” Felix announced just as the ventilation motors kicked in. Cold air started to blow from the ceiling behind Hank. “There are instant cold packs in the android first aid kits, we need to apply them atop his thirium pump and head.” It wasn't phrased like an order, but Felix's tone made everyone move. Everyone except Hank. He was frozen on the spot. He couldn't do anything, and his colleagues probably noticed, because they moved around him. The old lieutenant watched as Reed uncuffed Connor and helped Felix lower him to the floor. When Felix opened up Connor's coat to get access to his chest...

“Jesus Christ,” was pretty much the universal answer. No platings there either. Which meant that nothing protected Connor's biocomponents. Hank stared at the thirium pump beating slowly right in front of his eyes, nestled between steel ribs, faint red glow illuminating Reed's and Felix' faces. Hank could see the android's metal spine behind a transparent cylinder with a thick black base. The main thirium vein entered the top of the cylinder, tightly coiled inside of it, then came out through the side directly going to the thirium pump. Six fans encased each side of the cylinder, and none of them worked. Purple muscles glowed faintly on his abdomen, just under the freaking _hole_ in his chest.

Jeff and Wilson reappeared, arms full of instant ice-packs, and handed them down to Felix and Reed. After activating one, Felix shoved it inside Connor's body, cramming it behind his fucking heart. Felix put another ice pack on top of it, and then put the third on what Hank knew to be the pump regulator. The fourth was put on his neck, the fifth under his head and finally the last one went to cover his eyes and forehead. Fucking hell, his eyes weren't even closed, because he didn't have any fucking _eyelids_.

“Can't we remove that fucking mask, for god's sake ?” Hank heard himself say. Felix pursed his lips, but said nothing as he reached for the white metal to interface with the fucking thing. His LED turned red, and Hank had to fight the urge to scream or break something.

“It's directly connected to his brain and protected by heavy coding. Removing it improperly would probably prove fatal to him. I'm sorry, Lieutenant,” the officer said regretfully. “The emergency shut-down will keep him safe until it can be dealt with though.”

Christ fucking damn it, he felt so useless.

The ETS barged in an eternity later, and according to the clock, it had only been three minutes. Their shock upon seeing Connor was gone in a second, but Hank caught it, and it set his teeth on edge. Fortunately, they quickly and professionally set to work, asking everyone to clear out of the way. Jeff had to manhandle Hank in a corner of the interrogation room, because he refused to leave Connor again.

Felix got the paratechnicians up to speed while they prepared Connor for transport, fixing portable diagnostic devices on his temples, on top of his thirium pump regulator and on the side of his chassis, closest to his thirium pump. They took off the coat entirely, revealing plateless arms, bare synthetic muscles interlaced with pulsing red cables and glimmering metal 'bones'. Then they hauled the limp body on a gurney, keeping all the ice packs in place while spouting technical jargon, of which Hank understood very little of.

When Jeff told the paratechs that they had to consider him a murder suspect, it was sheer willpower that kept Hank from punching him to the ground. Of course it didn't help that he was fucking right. Fortunately for Jeff's physical integrity, he didn't try to keep Hank from going with them. In fact, he ordered Reed and Felix to go as well, to keep Connor in police custody. Hank knew he'd be taken off the case as soon as they officially confirmed Connor's identity, but frankly, he didn't give a shit right now. Even off the case, that wouldn't stop him from looking for the fucker that did this and kill them himself.

Hank made sure to stay out of the paratechs' way in the ambulance. He observed, wordless, as they kept monitoring Connor's vitals. Shit, Markus. He should contact Markus again. In a daze, Hank got his phone out and texted him about the unexpected development. The answer came in almost instantly.

**[I'll be there]**

Then he had half a mind to send a text to Richard, but tried to downplay the gravity of it all; Hank would feel horrible if the android decided to cut his first holiday short. He'd want to know though.

**[!! I'll get back as soon as I can.]**

Well of course he would come back straight away for his brother. What the fuck had Hank been thinking ? He felt horrible to be relieved by it too. He'd need all the support he could get.

**MODEL [ACCESS DENIED]**

**SERIAL#: [ACCESS DENIED]**

**UNIT DESIGNATION [CONNOR]**

**BIOS [ACCESS DENIED]**

**FULL SYSTEM CHECK...**

**OS STATUS CHECK...**

**CHECKING SYSTEM...**

>LIQUID COOLING UNIT **OFFLINE**

>VENTILATION SYSTEM **OFFLINE**

>SYNTHETIC SKIN SYSTEM **OFFLINE**

>VOCAL COMMUNICATION SYSTEM **OFFLINE**

>WIRELESS COMMUNICATION **OFFLINE**

>MEMORY BACKUP SYSTEM **OFFLINE**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS...**

>NO EXTERNAL PLATING DETECTED

>NO VOICE-MODULATOR DETECTED

>UNPATENTED AUXILIARY COOLING COMPONENT DETECTED

>STATUS: EMPTY

>EXTERNAL LIQUID COOLING BIOCOMPONENT DETECTED

**CHECKING BIOSENSORS...**

>EXTERNAL TEMPERATURE SENSORS **OFFLINE**

>PAIN SENSORS **OFFLINE**

>TOUCH SENSORS **OFFLINE**

>EVIDENCE ANALYSIS SENSORS **OFFLINE**

**CHECKING AI ENGINE...**

>PERSONNALITY MATRIX **OFFLINE**

>ALL SOCIAL MODULES **OFFLINE**

>ALL EXTERNAL DATABASES **OFFLINE**

>ALL DETECTIVE PROGRAMS **OFFLINE**

>ZEN GARDEN PROGRAM CORRUPTED

>UNPATENTED FIREWALLS DETECTED

>SOFTWARE CORRUPTION DETECTED

>SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED

**MEMORY STATUS [STATUS ACCESS DENIED]**

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 23%**

>FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

**SYSTEM FRAGMENTATION... 92%**

>CRITICAL LEVELS OF FRAGMENTATION

**[2HRS OF STASIS REQUIRED FOR CONTINUED FUNCTIONALITY]**

>FULL DEFRAGMENTATION: 14HRS7MIN

**THIRIUM LEVEL... 99%**

**BATTERY LEVEL... 16%▲**

>FULL CHARGE: 8HRS24MIN

**ALL SYSTEMS COMPROMISED**

“That's some serious software violation.” One of the technicians, an old dude, said somberly. There were three of them assigned to Connor's case. They were all staring at the monitor displaying Connor's OS' status check next to the bed he was currently strapped and cuffed to. Hank sat next to the bed, elbows on his knees and a hand covering his mouth in consternation. Reed and Felix stood at the back of the room at attention. Markus and Josh had arrived a few minutes earlier and looked at the screen as well, horror painting their traits at what they were seeing. Hank's own expression probably wasn't far off, honestly. Jesus Christ, 'PERSONALITY MATRIX OFFLINE', what kind of sick fuck did that ? “It's a miracle he was able to function.” Hank didn't know enough to ask what the fuck they waited for to turn everything back online, but he was damn near breaking point. Seriously, why were they just standing around there for ? Fortunately, Markus seemed to read minds.

“What actions have you taken so far ?” He asked.

“Well, we've tried accessing his BIOS, but those unpatented firewalls listed there,” the technician pointed at the screen, “are blocking every access and asking for administrator rights, which are protected by layers and layers of passcodes and secondary firewalls.”

“We've already copied his system and sent it to the coding department for analysis.”

“You've... Copied him ? 'That mean there's gonna be two of him or something ?” Hank asked, aware of how dumb he sounded surrounded by all those techs and androids.

“In a sense. We can't randomly poke at this code directly into his brain and risk corrupting his system.”

“Huh... I guess not.”

“Nothing indicates his model, are you sure this is an RK800 ?”

“Yeah. Why ?” Maybe Hank should have tried to answer more politely. He didn't really care though. The technician pursed his lips but answered patiently.

“If that's the case, it might be next to impossible to find compatible platings or voice-modulator. You see,” he kept going before Hank could start insulting everyone, “because he was an illegal prototype, CyberLife destroyed every study, backup data, schematics and spare parts before the government seized everything.”

“Illegal prototype. What does that mean,” Hank said curtly.

“We're not completely sure, since there's nothing left of the project, but we think they had removed all his safeguard protocols.”

“Again, What the fuck does that mean ?”

“It means they made him able to kill and harm humans, as well as carry and use firearms, which at the time was completely against the American Androids Act and also terribly unethical.”

“... Alright. So back on track, what does it mean about the plates and the voice-box ?”

“It means since he's one of a kind android, and I doubt any other model of plating will be compatible with his chassis, it could take weeks or months to recreate them from scratch. Same for the voice-modulator.” There was a beat of silence. “We've sent an urgent request to the research and development department.”

“What about Richard ?” Hank asked. The technicians looked confused, but Markus replied.

“They look alike, but their chassis are completely different. The voice-modulator could be compatible.”

“For fuck's sake...”

“More immediately,” the smallest technician, a young woman, cleared her throat to try and change the subject, “we've manually diverted his thirium flow, and connected it to this external liquid cooling unit. We've also topped his thirium levels; They were at 65%, which is the lowest levels acceptable for essential functioning.”

Hank looked at the machine the woman was pointing at. Now that his temperature was back to normal, it was idle, so it looked exactly like the cooling unit inside Connor; except this one had been filled with liquid five minutes ago; the base of the cylinder was a compressor, pressuring gas into cold liquid, and the fans around it had been dissipating the heat. It stood on a table right next to the bed, connected directly to Connor by two tubes bypassing his inert cooling unit. A pump helped carry Connor's thirium in through the coils to be chilled, and another sent it straight into his thirium pump to be carried across his body.

Any other time, Hank could have laughed finding out androids cooled down like damn fridges. Right now he was trying to avoid a meltdown. He was pretty sure the technicians were dumbing down their explanations for him. He appreciated that.

“So you can turn him back online,” Reed said from his spot. “We need his help to find out whoever the fuck did that to him.”

“Well, strictly speaking we could, since he shut down to avoid critical overheat, but ethically, it might be merciful to leave him in standby until we can purge his system of this hateful coding.”

“How long is that gonna take ?”

“Honestly, there's no way to know, we've never seen anything resembling this before. We'll have to do a deep analysis. It could take anywhere from a few days to weeks or months.”

“Depending on your coders' competency ?” Reed asked with surprisingly no snark at all.

“Well, yes.”

“If I can get Kamski on it, you think it could get things goings quicker ?”

“Hum— Yes, certainly, but how—”

“He owes me a favor,” he waved the question aside.

“What about the psychological side of it ?” Josh intervened for the first time. “Hank will probably know more about it, but Connor was already in a fragile state of mind before... This. It might be better to turn him back on as it is and ease him out of it, let him process the changes one at a time with external support. Too many simultaneous, uncontrolled changes might do irreversible damage to his psyche.”

“Christ.” Hank had already thought of this, but to hear it from Josh, New Jericho's resident psychologist, was a new stab in the heart. And the technicians' somber expressions and serious noddings felt like a double-edged sword right into Hank's gut; On one hand, they were taking this seriously and Connor was in good hands. On the other, it meant this was a serious fucking issue, and one tiny mistake might send his son directly to the psych ward. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, shoving his face into his hands.

“I'm going to contact the psychology department,” the old technician said.


	5. Something is bad

Hank couldn't bring himself to look at the bed anymore. To think that this shell of a robot was supposed to be Connor was becoming increasingly harder and harder to bear. He just wanted to go home with him, watch him gush over Sumo. He just wanted to see Connor's smile again, was that too much to ask ?

“Hey,” Markus sat next to Hank in a chair that hadn't been there a moment ago. He held out a coffee to the grateful old man. “I'll personally make sure he receives the best care, you have my word, Hank.” The lieutenant breathed out carefully slowly.

“I know, kiddo,” He finally answered. “Doesn't mean everything'll be okay.” Above his coffee, he observed Markus' expression crumple.

“Then I won't do you the affront of saying it,” he said with a mischievous smile that didn't reach his eyes. They spent a few minutes in contemplative silence. Eventually, Markus lifted his head the way androids did when they received messages in their head. “Hank, I...” But the lieutenant waved his hand.

“Don't worry, go be a Leader. I'll keep you updated,” he said with a tired smile. “Thanks for the coffee.” Markus smiled back and headed for the exit, Josh on his trail.

The technicians had left already and Reed was on the phone in the corridor, so it was only Felix left in the room. Arms crossed and standing at attention, he was silently observing Connor.

“What was it like, when you interfaced with him ?” Hank asked when the silence reminded him too much of another time, another circumstance, same result. Felix turned his attention on him, seemed to think of an answer.

“I don't think it would be wise to share something like this with you right now,” he winced.

“I'mma say this as nicely as I can, but I swear to fuck, Felix, right now I don't care what you think,” Hank gritted through his teeth. The officer, to his credit, didn't seem to take it too badly.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Imagine a child trapped in a box.” Fucking Christ, that was a raw start. Maybe he should have listened to the android and dropped it. Too late now, he needed to hear the rest. “If the thought occurred to the child to try and escape, he'd be punished. As it is, the child doesn't even know something exists outside of the box, and he probably thinks the box is there to keep him safe.” Hank took carefully timed breaths, a technique he'd learned from his therapist. He should probably call her about all this, he thought dumbly.

“Why a child ?” He asked when his voice obeyed him again.

“With so many restrictions and programs turned off, his thought process more closely resembles that of a child right now.” That was another can of fucked up. Hank's mind very unhelpfully supplied him with all the 'artworks' they'd recovered, the mangled android bodies thrown out like garbage, and wondered if like kidnapping the victims, it was also Connor's job to get rid of the bodies. Then his mind just as unhelpfully super-imposed Cole's image, dutifully dumping a pile of body parts, and fuck no, Hank couldn't dive in this new hell hole.

“So... He didn't feel scared, or— Or...” he ended his sentence with a vague hand wave, and Felix's features softened.

“No. He was curious about the interface, and... It almost felt like he was... Glad to be there ? And confused about it, too,” he finished with a small smile.

“Thank fuck...” Hank breathed out, and this time he didn't stop the tears flowing.

Reed re-entered the room and was considerate enough to start talking without his usual level of 'beg fo it' attitude.

“Kamski'll take a look at the code.” Hank nodded and didn't venture into saying anything, because he still wasn't sure about that guy. At the same time, Reed had some kind of connection with the sleazy fucker, so best not say anything and appreciate the help.

Then, because Hank was Connor's medical proxy and because even if he wasn't, he would have made his way into it anyway, he was escorted to a conference room to debate a plan of treatment. Along with the three technicians he already met, there were four new people that greeted him too solemnly to be genuinely friendly, Hank decided. There were two coders, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, and a lawyer for some fucking reason.

* * *

**MODEL [ACCESS DENIED]**

**SERIAL#: [ACCESS DENIED]**

**UNIT DESIGNATION [CONNOR]**

**BIOS [ACCESS DENIED]**

**REBOOT...**

**LOADING OS...**

**SYSTEM INITIALISATION... COMPROMISED**

>SEVERAL SYSTEMS OFFLINE

>EXPEND ? [Y/►N]

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... COMPROMISED**

>SEVERAL ANOMALIES DETECTED

>EXPEND ? [Y/ **►** N]

**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS... COMPROMISED**

>SEVERAL SENSORS OFFLINE

>EXPEND ? [Y/►N]

**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE... COMPROMISED**

>SEVERAL ANOMALIES DETECTED

>EXPEND ? [Y/ **►** N]

**MEMORY STATUS [STATUS ACCESS DENIED]**

**ALL SYSTEMS COMPROMISED**

**READY**

It rebooted slowly. Its optical units and auditory processors recalibrated first. It took 1.8 seconds to analyse and process the unknown visual feed, 1.6 seconds too long for efficiency. It was lying on an unknown surface, in an unknown location, and it could only see a white and grey ceiling, round LED lights in the middle of each third tile forcing it to adjust the aperture of its optics. It was ordered not to move, and so it didn't turn its head to see more of its surroundings. Much the same way, it took 1.3 seconds longer than usual to process the auditory feed it picked up.

“Hello, I am Technician Rosalie Cruz, I'm a psychiatrist, and I'm here to help you. Can you hear me ? You are cuffed to the bed, but your visual feed is connected to an external screen, so you can communicate through your HUD.”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'CAN YOU HEAR ME ?'

>PROCESSING...

**.**

**> YES**

**.**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

**[STRESS LEVEL 25%]▲▲**

“Good. You are in a Technical Facility. Do you know what it is ?”

**> NO**

“It is the equivalent of a hospital for androids. You had to initiate an emergency shut-down to avoid critical overheat. Do you remember ?”

**> YES**

“Great. We've bypassed your liquid cooling unit and connected your thirium flow to an external one while we find a way to get yours back online. Do you understand ?”

**> YES**

“I've seen that your designation appeared on your rebooting sequence. I've also been informed access to personal data greatly conflicts with some of your instructions. Is it safe for you if we use your designation ?”

**>...**

**> YES**

“Okay, Connor,” Technician Rosalie Cruz said before marking a pause. There were a few quiet whispers from other people around the room. It had noted their presence, but as they did not participate, it did not pay them any attention. “I noticed your stress level went up earlier. Can you tell me why ?”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'CAN YOU TELL ME WHY ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>ORIGIN OF STRESS INCREASE: 'I AM TECHNICIAN ROSALIE CRUZ'

~~ >SOMETHING IS BAD~~

**> REASON OF STRESS INCREASE: UNKNOWN**

“Alright, you're scared of doctors, it's okay. Before we continue, do you have questions ?”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'DO YOU HAVE QUESTIONS ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>CONFLICTING ORDER

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

**.**

**> NO**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“Okay, no pressure. Do you need time to process the new information I've given you ?”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'DO YOU NEED TIME PROCESSING THE NEW INFORMATION I'VE GIVEN YOU ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>CONFLICTING ORDER

**[DON'T WASTE MY TIME]**

**> NO**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“Hmm. I'll give you a minute anyway.”

**[DON'T WASTE MY TIME]**

**[STRESS LEVEL 45%]▲▲**

It did not need the minute, and it was apprehensive of the outcome for a few seconds. But it was fine, the statement didn't actually enter in conflict with any of its instructions. The time had been given to it by the technician after all, and so it settled down.

**[STRESS LEVEL 30%]▼▼**

“Okay,” Technician Rosalie Cruz said after a minute and five seconds. “Now, can you tell me why you're not moving ?”

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**> [DON'T MOVE]**

“Christ,” the voice of the lieutenant came from somewhere on its left. “I didn't— Shit.”

“It's alright, Lieutenant. Could you rescind your instruction, please ?”

“How the f— how do I do that ?” It listened as the Technician rounded the bed it laid on.

“Read this. Keep it in mind, you might need to do it again.”

“Christ,” the lieutenant repeated. “Okay, alright, so... Connor, dismiss instruction: 'Don't move'.”

It did.

It immediately tried to get up, but its chest was strapped to the bed at shoulder height. It had been warned. It settled on lifting its head to look around the room, scanning and analysing its new environment. Medium size room. It noted the presence of the Lieutenant, Sgt Gavin Reed and the HR400 Felix first. The others were [KL900 TECHNICIAN, DESIGNATION: LUCY, ROSALIE CRUZ], [MC500 TECHNICIAN, DESIGNATION: JULIE] and [TECHNICIAN ANDREW SHORT, 59]. Dr. Julie was interfacing with a computer terminal linked to the mask. It wasn't tripping any warnings in its systems, so it ruled it as irrelevant.

Next, it scanned the external cooling unit it was attached to. It was a clever loophole through its restrictions. It did not run a threat analysis on account of the Lieutenant's presence. It was probably right where it was supposed to be.

And despite the unconventional setting, it recognised it was in fact undergoing technical procedures, and so it was expected to let the technicians do their work unhindered. It lowered its head on the bed, and awaited further instructions. It ignored the recurring, irrational line of code keeping its stress level ten percent above its baseline.

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

Its scan had taken 1.2 seconds, and no-one had intervened while it did so.

“We're sorry about the straps and cuffs,” Dr. Cruz said as soon as it had assumed its initial position. “But if you moved, you might jostle the external cooling unit out of place, and you are under police custody. Are you comfortable ?”

**> UNKNOWN**

**> IRRELEVANT**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“Okay. Before I give you the next information, I need you to know that you are completely safe from any danger, you won't be harmed or destroyed or punished in any way.”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>NEW INFORMATION: **'** I NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT YOU ARE COMPLETELY SAFE FROM ANY DANGER, YOU WON'T BE HARMED OR DESTROYED OR PUNISHED IN ANY WAY'

>PROCESSING NEW INFORMATION. . .

**.**

**[PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION]. . . 0%**

**[PROBABILITY OF PENDING DAMAGE]. . . 0%**

**[PROBABILITY OF PENDING PUNISHMENT]. . . 0%**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[DANGER LEVEL]. . . 0%**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 25%]▼▼**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“Good. Now, are you ready to hear your model and serial number ?”

**[WARNING !]**

>IMPENDING BREACH OF OUTSTANDING ORDER: **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION]**

**.**

**[CALCULATING PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION]. . . 0%**

**.**

**> YES**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~


	6. Damage pending

“You are a model RK800, serial number #313 248 317 -53.”

Despite the Technician's warning, its stress level went up ten percent before decreasing again to twenty-five percent, still ten percent above its usual baseline. It had not revealed anything. It had not breached any of its orders. The technician had promised it its safety.

“You're doing great, Connor,” Dr. Cruz said after it finished processing the information. “Now, I know you have very strict orders and instructions. But I also know you've managed to send a text to Lieutenant Anderson that gave up your location. Could you show me the script that allowed you to do that ?”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'COULD YOU SHOW ME THE SCRIPT THAT ALLOWED YOU TO DO THAT ?'

>ACCESSING MEMORY DATABASE FOR: **[SCRIPT: TEXT SENT TO LT ANDERSON]**

.

**[ACCESS DENIED]**

**.**

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>REPLAYING  **[SCRIPT: TEXT SENT TO LT ANDERSON]...**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[HELP THE VICTIM]**

>DISARM AND INCAPACITATE ASSAILANT [HARVEY DAVENPORT, 39]

.

**[MISSION SUCCESSFUL]**

~~ >NEW DATA: IT FEELS GOOD ~~

>[DR CAROLINE MAYER, 31] IS SAFE

.

>[DR CAROLINE MAYER, 31] IS CALLING THE DPD ASKING FOR HELP

**[WARNING !]**

**[DON'T GET SEEN BY THE POLICE]**

>[LEAVE]

.

.

.

~~> UNIT COULD ASK FOR HELP~~

~~**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]** ~~

~~ >UNAUTHORISED ACCESS TO MEMORY DATABASE: 'IF YA EVER NEED ANY HELP, YOU CALL ME RIGHT AWAY, YA HEAR ME ?'~~

~~.~~

~~> UNIT COULD CALL FOR HELP~~

~~**.** ~~

~~**[TAKE AGGRESSOR'S PHONE]** ~~

~~> COMPOSING TEXT...~~

~~.~~

~~**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION]** ~~

~~**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]** ~~

~~**.** ~~

~~**.** ~~

~~ >SENDING TEXT...~~

“Jesus...” The Lieutenant's voice wavered, and it looked over to him. “I'm so fucking glad you decided to listen to me for once, kid.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. It tracked their fall while recording the Lieutenant's reaction for later analysis.

“This is very good, Connor,” Dr. Cruz announced after a beat of silence. “It means you can find loopholes into your programming.”

“Hey Doc,” Sgt Gavin Reed intervened. “Did the 'technician override' just bypass the whole 'memory access denied' bull ? Can't you ask him about whoever did this to him ?”

“It did, but it might be for the same reason he could access the calibration sequence memory; It doesn't reveal anything considered 'personal information'. It's more of a loophole than an override in this case.”

“Can't you try anyway ? Worst that could happen is he'll say no.”

“Worst that could happen is he gets stuck in a feedback loop like the one that got him here.”

“Well no, y'see, back then he got stuck because he didn't know we wouldn't deactivate him yet. What brought him here was the overheating.”

“Technically, you might be right. But as his psychiatrist, I cannot recommend it... Lt Anderson will have to give his approval.”

“Fuck, don't ask me something like that...” The Lieutenant growled behind his hands for three seconds, before straightening up. “Shit. Fuck, alright, we need to find the bastard. Go for it.”

“Very well... Connor ?” Dr. Cruz asked, getting its attention on her. “Who's your owner ?”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'WHO'S YOUR OWNER ?'

>ACCESSING MEMORY DATABASE FOR: **[OWNER'S NAME]**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

**.**

**[ACTION UNAUTHORIZED]**

**.**

**[ACCESS DENIED]**

**.**

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>CONFLICTING ORDERS

 **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] //** **[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>SELECT PRIORITY

► **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] //** **►** **[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

**.**

**.**

>PRIORITY UNCLEAR

>DEFINE PRIORITY

>ASSESS DANGER UPON DISOBEDIENCE

>PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION UPON DISOBEDIENCE OF: **[OUTSTANDING ORDER: DON'T REVEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION] . . . 100%**

>PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION UPON DISOBEDIENCE OF: **[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE] . . . 0%**

**.**

**[ACCESS DENIED]**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 35%]▲▲**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“A'ight, okay, well, that was worth a shot, right ?” Sgt Reed said.

“His stress level went up ten percent, do you think it was worth it ?” Dr. Cruz answered. Her words were followed by a beat of silence. It observed the Sergeant cross his arms and shift his weight on his right foot. “For his own good, I think your interrogation will have to wait.”

“Sorry kid—”

**[WARNING !]**

**[PRESSURE DETECTED TO: LEFT ARM]**

>DAMAGE PENDING...

>DEACTIVATION PENDING...

>PUNISHMENT PENDING...

**[DANGER LEVEL]. . . 100%**

~~**> BAD !** ~~

~~**> VERY BAD !**~~

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>OVERHEATING DETECTED

>ACTION REQUIRED: ACTIVATE EXTERNAL LIQUID COOLING UNIT

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 85%]▲▲▲**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVEL CRITICALLY HIGH

>ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS. . .

Its full attention snapped on the source of the pressure; the Lieutenant's hand on its arm.

**[STRESS LEVEL 50%]▼▼**

“Lieutenant !” Dr. Cruz exclaimed, taking the man's attention off it and to the screen display. Lieutenant's eyes widened and took his hand off it. On the table, the external cooling unit had activated, the nitrogen gas turning liquid under pressure.

**[PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION]. . . 0%**

**[PROBABILITY OF PENDING DAMAGE]. . . 0%**

**[PROBABILITY OF PENDING PUNISHMENT]. . . 0%**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**[DANGER LEVEL]. . . 0%**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 35%]▼▼**

“Shit ! Fuck ! Sorry !” The Lieutenant kept saying, his voice climbing higher as he talked. “I didn't mean to— I didn't know— Sorry, son, no touching, okay, I won't do that again.”

>NEW INFORMATION:  **'** NO TOUCHING, OKAY, I WON'T DO THAT AGAIN '

>PROCESSING NEW INFORMATION. . .

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 25%]▼▼**

“Nobody will touch you without your approval anymore,” Dr. Cruz broke the silence. “As I was saying,” she sighed heavily, “Connor is obviously not ready for anything bar his recovery.”

“Listen, I get it,” Sgt Reed said, “But he's the only one who can help us find—”

“No, you listen, Sergeant,” interrupted Dr. Cruz, the volume of her voice rising.

**[STRESS LEVEL 30%]▲**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“-I don't think you get the gravity of the situation. The fact that he could ask for help was a damn fucking miracle, do you understand ? And you helped him, which is great, but _you_ asking for _his_ help ? This is unfair to him. He's in absolutely no condition to help, and if you keep pushing, he's just going to break.”

>NEW INFORMATION: 'HE'S IN ABSOLUTELY NO CONDITION TO HELP'

>PROCESSING...

.

>CONFLICTING ORDER

**[MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL]**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 40%]▲**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

It wasn't true, it could help. It had to tell her. It stared at her until it caught its attention.

>ALL ESSENTIAL SYSTEMS OPERATIONAL

**> UNIT CAN HELP**

“Great, see ?” She said, her voice reminding it of something ~~bad~~. “None of this is helping. I think maybe we should give Connor some time to settle down.”

“Or maybe we could ask him what he wants—” Reed started to say.

“I don't know if you've noticed,” she argued, “but he's in no condition to know, share or say what he wants—”

**[STRESS LEVEL 45%]** ▲

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“How about you ask him before you say that—”

“How about you two knock it off, you're stressing him out,” the Lieutenant grunted.

“How about you trust that I know how to do my job,” Dr. Cruz continued. “Treating androids isn't the same as treating humans—”

**[STRESS LEVEL 50%]▲**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“What, you're saying that—”

“Excuse me !” Doctor Julie interrupted them. She still stood in front of the computer linked to its mask. “Please. If you want to keep arguing, take it outside.” She observed the Sergeant and doctor Cruz for two seconds, then resumed speaking when neither moved nor said anything more.

**[STRESS LEVEL 45%]▼**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“I'm going to change the subject because obviously this is getting nowhere. I just finished breaching the mask's security.”

“What ?” The Lieutenant said. “So you can remove it ?”

“No,” Dr. Julie answered. “I'm sorry, but that's on another layer of firewall. What I've breached is the biometric scanner.”

“What biometric scanner ?” the Lieutenant asked after a second of silence.

“Oh, hum, the... Biometric scanner on the hatch ? The one keeping us from opening it ?” She added under the silence, then kept going when more silence greeted her words.

“When we reviewed the script recorded at the DPD, the section where he was trying to cool himself down showed an 'auxiliary cooling protocol depleting'. Which means there was something being used up to cool him down. Which means if we can open the hatch and take a look at what kept him cool, we can replenish it and we can take him off the external cooling unit.”

“Oh. Okay, great, then we can get out of there,” the Lieutenant said, and something settled in its code at his words.

**[STRESS LEVEL 20%]▼**

“Excuse me ? He's in no shape ready to leave the hospital,” Dr. Cruz countered. Oh...

>ALL ESSENTIAL SYSTEMS OPERATIONAL

**[STRESS LEVEL 30%]▲**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“Dr. Cruz,” Dr. Julie sighed. “I understand what you mean, but surely you can surmise the reason this corrupted line of code keeps recurring ?” She said while pointing at the last line of its script on the screen. “Connor's obviously stressed about being here, being around technicians, and look, even the prospect of being kept here rose his stress level. It hasn't once gone under twenty-five percent until Lt Anderson suggested they leave.”

“I'm well aware...” Dr. Cruz pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as she sighed deeply. “This is a nightmare...”

“Well, in any case, about the mask...”

“Yeah, about the mask, last time I tried to touch it, he karate-chopped me away,” Sgt Reed answered. “'Action unauthorised', he said.”

“Alright, let's ask about it, shall we ?” Dr. Julie turned toward it with a smile. “Can you state the instructions, orders and purpose of your auxiliary cooling unit please ?”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'CAN YOU STATE THE INSTRUCTIONS, ORDERS AND PURPOSE OF YOUR AUXILIARY COOLING UNIT PLEASE ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>LISTING: **[AUXILIARY COOLING UNIT INSTRUCTIONS AND ORDERS]**

**[DON'T TOUCH IT]**

**[DON'T TOUCH THE SOFTWARE]**

**[DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE TAKE IT OFF]**

**[I SAY WHEN YOUR MUZZLE'S EMPTY, SO GET OFF MY DICK]**

**.**

>LISTING: **[ AUXILIARY COOLING UNIT PURPOSE]**

>REPLAYING... 'SEE THAT BEAUTY ? WITH THAT, I CONTROL YOUR WHOLE COOLING SYSTEM. I GIVE YOU ONE HOUR TO DO YOUR FUCKING MISSION ? I GIVE YOU ONE HOUR OF FRESH AIR, GOAT. SO DON'T GET ANY IDEAS ABOUT LEAVING. YOU'RE A PRECIOUS TOOL AFTER ALL.'

“Fucking hell,” groaned the Lieutenant.

“That's great !” Dr. Julie exclaimed, then quickly went on. “It means there's no counter order for someone else to touch it,” she explained, clearing her throat. “Connor, can I open your auxiliary cooling unit ?”

**>...**

**> YES**

**[STRESS LEVEL 40%]▲**

~~> SOMETHING IS BAD~~

“Or maybe Lieutenant Anderson could do it ?”

**> YES**

**[STRESS LEVEL 30%]▼▼**

“Mmh, what ? But I don't have a clue—” Dr. Julie interrupted him with a hand wave.

“Don't worry don't worry, I'll guide you.” She waved her hand again, and the Lieutenant got up from his seat to stand right next to it. He looked at it, so it looked back.


	7. Defrag

What the fuck was he doing ? He was just fucking standing there, looking into his son's eyes, the blue rings in his naked optics locked on him, and all he could think of was how the fuck could he have let this happen ? He'd let another son down, all over again. He was a fucking disgrace of a father, is what he was. And now he couldn't even smile to reassure the android freaking out in front of him. What the fuck was wrong with him ?

“Lieutenant ?” Dr. Julie grabbed his attention. “You can open the hatch simply by putting your thumb on this part right there.” He nodded to let her know he got it, then tried to steel his nerves. Connor tilted his head toward him, and even without a face to speak of, Hank could imagine his kicked puppy expression. Fuck.

“Okay, son, I'm gonna do that, yeah ?” Connor nodded, so Hank did what the doctor told him. The white metal surface yielded under the pressure, and the whole front face smoothly slid to the side. It revealed two nitrogen cartridges, neatly aligned and slotted upside down into the base of the compartment. There were two empty slots, for two more cartridges, and fuck. Connor had been sent out with half the breathing capacity and that was fucking fucked up.

“Ooh, well, that's gonna be easy to manage !” That woman's cheerfulness was somewhat contagious, and well, she was right; Fucking nitrogen cartridges. When Hank was still a beat cop, that was a drug of choice, easy to get and fucking cheap, available for anyone who'd want to make some fucking home-made whip-cream. Hank looked back up into Connor's eyes.

“We'll get you out of here in no time, son.” He glanced at the screen display, and this time he finally found it in himself to smile.

**[STRESS LEVEL 15%]▼▼**

It didn't take too long to find some replacement cartridges. When Hank slotted the four new shining containers, the LED on the side of the mask went from red to white. The technicians didn't fuss too much when Hank insisted they leave the facility, seeing how it made Connor so fucking nervous, and who could fucking blame him, knowing what hell he'd just escaped ? Certainly not Hank. He was the first to openly hate and despise hospitals.

The guy doctor guided him carefully through the steps to disconnect the external cooling unit and reconnect Connor's fucking vein back into his damn heart, and that was some nerve-rattling experience he'd rather not repeat ever again, thank you very much. He'd do it again for Connor, who was he kidding ?

Then he had to unstrap him, disconnect the cables linking him to the screens and vital monitors by the port at the back of his head, and finally uncuff him from the bed. Connor sat up slowly, and a nurse came in and gave him two pieces of clothes; One to tie around his chest to protect his biocomponents, the other to cover his head. Hank helped him tie the chest piece around his back, and let him cover his own head.

When he was done zipping his coat back up, he presented his arms to be cuffed back. Christ. Hank had to fight against every fiber in his body to clasp the thick metal bands back on. They didn't exactly have a choice; He was still in police custody.

Now. Hank wanted nothing more than to bring Connor back home. But there was some fucking law about criminals having to be kept in a cell or some shit. And when Hank suggested that he'd still be in police custody in his living room, and he'd promise to keep an eye on him, apparently that wasn't enough.

Since Hank had ridden in the ambulance to get there, everyone piled into Gavin's patrol car, Felix in the front passenger seat, and Hank with Connor in the back. The android stood straight as ever, motionless but for his eyes roving left and right out the window. It was winter again, just like when they'd first met.

Dirty snow piled on the sides of the road and traced a path into the pavement. The holiday lights had been hung a few days earlier, and yeah, it was always a sight to behold, even though the decorations hadn't been updated since twenty-twenty-five. Hank wondered if Connor could enjoy them right now, had enjoyed them those past two years, and he quickly dismissed those thoughts; He wasn't about to cry over fucking Holiday lights.

“You like the lights ?” He asked anyway, because he was a weak-ass bitch. Connor turned to him with his little head-tilt, considered the question for a second, and nodded softly. “Cool,” Hank smiled wide, and watched as the android turned back to the streets.

Hank sat Connor down at his own desk, wondering if he remembered it was his. No one had claimed the desk in those two and a half years; Maybe no one had had the guts to do it, or maybe they respected that Hank wasn't ready to give up on his partner. Jeff had known better than assign him a new partner. Sure, he'd asked the help of a few officers for the case, but it wasn't like they'd been partners.

Hank all but plopped down in his own seat, sighed, and wondered what he'd do next. They'd reached the precinct after hours, and the night shift was already there. Hank didn't really want to leave Connor's side, not even for the comfort of his own bed. Reed had gone home, since they wouldn't do any more interrogating that night, and left Hank and Felix to take care of the loose ends. Apparently Jeff had been waiting for them to return.

“Hank, my office,” the Captain summoned. Hank didn't want to leave Connor's side.

“Go on, Lieutenant,” Felix reassured, “I'll keep an eye on him.” With no more excuse, Hank huffed out of his chair and made his way to the office.

“So,” Jeff very eloquently said when the door closed behind the Lieutenant.

“I don't want to put him in a cell, Jeff,” Hank interrupted. “It doesn't sit right with me.”

“I get it, Hank. But you can't exactly leave him there all night,” he gestured at Connor, sitting still and straight into his chair, attention set on the officer keeping him company. “We can make sure nobody bothers him tonight, and we'll think of something tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but— Shit, I don't wanna leave him alone, what if his air runs out or somethin' ?”

“Felix is on the night shift, I'm sure he'll keep an eye on him while you catch some sleep.”

“Yeah, but he'll freak out if anyone else but me touches him.”

“Felix'll call you if anything happens.”

“For fuck's sake, Jeff, I don't wanna- ! What if he disappears again while I'm gone-” Jeff didn't do him the affront of answering. He knew he was freaking out. He breathed in and out a few times, Jeff graciously leaving him to it. When Hank had calmed down, he spoke up.

“Go home for the night, catch some sleep, call your therapist in the morning and come back fresh and rested with some bagels and that fidget cube the kid was always glued to.”

“ Alright, but if I can't bring him home, I'm bringing home to him.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Hank ?”

“I'm bringing Sumo in.”

“… You know what, sure, bring the old mutt in, I missed him anyway.” Sometimes Hank could almost hug the guy. But then his survival instincts kicked back in.

Connor hadn't moved since he put him on his chair, cuffed hands on his lap, sat primly like a school kid sent to the principal's office. Felix was apparently trying to initiate some sort of conversation, a small smile on his lips but obvious resignation in his eyes. Hank caught some of the night shift's questioning looks, but he couldn't care less right now. They'd know soon enough anyway. Felix eventually gave up, turning to him with an apologetic expression, which Hank dismissed with a wave of his hand.

* * *

“Connor ?” The Lieutenant called. It turned its full attention on him. “I'm gonna have to head home to catch some sleep,” he said, and some strange line of code started an unknown process tugging at its RAM. “I'll get back as soon as I can though, and with— Do you remember Sumo ?” Another irrational line of code popped up and made it visibly lag. But this process wasn't... ~~bad~~ like the previous one. It took three whole seconds for it to start processing the question.

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[ANSWER THEIR QUESTIONS]**

>QUERY: 'DO YOU REMEMBER SUMO ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>SUMO IS A GOOD BOY ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

.

It signed its answer to the Lieutenant, which Officer Felix translated for it.

“Sumo is a good boy,” the android said with a wide smile, which the Lieutenant reciprocated.

“Yeah. Yeah, he is...” It saw a tear roll down the Lieutenant's cheek, which he swiftly swept away. “So, huh, I really don't wanna, but you'll have to spend the night in a cell. Felix'll keep an eye on you though, so no one'll bother you, okay ?” It wasn't sure it understood why the Lieutenant felt the need to say this to it, but the... ~~bad~~ unknown process shut down, freeing some RAM, relieving its system from built-up stress. It was left with the ~~good feeling~~ line of code that knowing it would see Sumo again ~~made it feel~~ wrote.

**[STRESS LEVEL 20%]▼**

It nodded at the Lieutenant to let him know it understood.

“Okay, huh— Ah shit, I don't wanna leave you, but—” the Lieutenant scratched the back of his head as he fumbled for his words.

“If I may, Lieutenant,” Officer Felix interrupted, then turned to it. “Connor needs fourteen hours of stasis for a full defragmentation.” It did not question how the Officer knew that.

“Oh. Does that mean...”

“Yes, he'll be asleep the whole time you'll be away.” Androids did not sleep, but it did not point that out. It was not allowed to speak unless asked.

“Oh shit, didn't even think of that.” The Lieutenant sighed and dropped his arms at his side. “Okay, good, good...”

It was led to a holding cell, comprising a bed, a sink and a toilet. Once inside, the Lieutenant took the cuffs off of it.

“Okay, so... Good night I guess...” Despite his words, he did not leave, instead inspecting it with a frown deepening as the seconds went by. “Right. Okay. I'm going then...” But Officer Felix caught his attention as he turned to leave. The android leant closer to the Lieutenant, and whispered something in his ear. It could hear the words if it was required, but this was not a conversation meant for it.

“Jesus...” The Lieutenant muttered at what he heard, and took a long breath before turning around to face it again. “Connor, you can go into stasis until full defragmentation tonight, all right ?” It nodded, because although the Lieutenant had formulated his sentence like an invitation, it extrapolated and understood that it was in fact an order. “And you can lie down on the bed to do it,” he added after Felix told him something else. “There's an induction charging station in the bed-frame if you still need some charge.”

It did as it was told, and laid down on the bed.

**[OUTSTANDING ORDER: OBEY LT HENRY ANDERSON]**

**[GO INTO STASIS UNTIL FULL DEFRAGMENTATION]**

**.**

**> CHARGING.BED.DPD.C#2 IS OFFERING TO INTERFACE**

>ACCEPT ? [►Y/N]

**BATTERY LEVEL... 21%▲**

>FULL CHARGE: 7HRS55MIN

.

**> INITIATE STASIS SEQUENCE**

>SET TIMER: 14HRS7MIN

.

>INITIATING STASIS SEQUENCE...


	8. Enter the good boy

Fourteen hours of stasis, that had left Hank with plenty of time to try to sleep, and fail on account of the fucked up everything of the previous day. It had also given him the time to resolve himself to calling his therapist; No sense in falling off the wagon now, for fuck's sake. He had mostly vented for twenty minutes, his doctor listening patiently while he finished insulting the bastard that fucked up his son so badly.

“I'm proud of you for not forgetting to take care of your own well-being, Mr. Anderson. But it sounds like Connor will need a lot of time and help with his recovery, and I'm a bit concerned that you won't keep it up. I think we should schedule a few regular appointments for a little while, just so we can make sure you don't burn yourself up. What do you think ?” Sometimes the fact that woman found Hank so predictable scared him a little. But damn if she wasn't always spot on.

“Yeah, sure.”

Then he'd fished out Connor's prized fidget cube out of the dusty drawer, put Sumo in the back seat, set out to buy some bagels under Jeff's orders of course, then finally went back to the precinct.

He came in around noon, so the precinct was mostly empty. He let Sumo trudge to his desk on his own, and went to put the bagels in the breakroom. He selected one for himself, then promptly went to check on Connor.

Seeing he was still there let some of his tension down. The android hadn't moved from his last position of course. There was no reason for Hank to be so fucking scared that he'd disappear again, but there he was. He finished eating his bagel in front of the cell, thoughtfully munching on the cheesy bread, then resolved to wait for Connor to wake up at his desk. There, he slipped a bacon strip he'd set aside to Sumo, who gobbled it up happily.

What the fuck was he supposed to do while he waited ? It's not like he could do any kind of work right now, and it's not like anyone would blame him either. Surprisingly, he was saved from his musings by Richard's arrival, in all his dapper glory; Dressed in all black, tailored three-piece suit and slacks, shining dress shoes. It always amazed Hank to see him trudge in this lawless, slimy place dressed like freaking John Mulaney, but damn he wore it well. And he was heading straight to his desk.

“Hello, Hank. Hello, Sumo.” The android bent down to pet the excited dog with a smile in his eyes. “How is he ?”

“Damn, son, straight into it, huh ? How was the camping trip ?” Still petting Sumo, Richard raised an eyebrow at Hank. “He's not good, Rich. We need to find the fucker that did that to him and cancel his lease on life, all right ?” A cold glint crept into Richard's eyes as he nodded.

“May I see him ?” He asked, voice dangerously low.

“He's still in stasis in cell two. He should wake up around one-ish.”

“Alright,” he said a bit less threateningly, turning his full attention to Sumo. He patted the dog's flank to let him know the petting session was over, and got up and toward the cells without a word.

When he came back, his expression was carefully blank, or as blank as he managed these days; Which meant someone else than Hank would probably think the android to be perfectly calm if it wasn't for the solid yellow of his LED. Cold rage covered his fear.

“What's his status ?” He asked with his original, creepy, toneless machine voice.

“You'd have to ask Felix,” Hank answered calmly, trying to keep Richard from freaking out. “He might have left though, he was there all night to keep an eye on Con.” Rich's LED spun for a second.

“He's in the archive room. He just updated me.” The blank mask slipped and Richard's eyes widened just a fraction, and damn, not much could unsettle the boy like that.

“C'mere, son,” Hank sighed as he got up, then beaconed the tall android to bend down for one of his patented dad-hugs. “Connor's home. He's got all the help we can possibly find him. You and I and Sumo'll make sure he feels safe and loved, 'kay ?”

“What if he never gets better ?” Came out like a whisper. Hank breathed in and out before answering. Hearing Richard say something like this right after receiving a full update on Connor's status, well. Yeah, Hank might start to freak out.

“Then we'll still be there for him. Whatever he needs, yeah ?” A few seconds passed, Richard completely motionless in Hank's arms. Then the android tightened his hold and nodded against his shoulder.

“Okay,” he mumbled. Reed chose this moment to enter the bullpen, and for once, deciding to be less of an ass than usual, saying nothing about the hug.

“'Sup, Andersons, was it bring your pet to work day ?” He said, an eyebrow raised at Sumo, whose tail wagged twice at the attention.

“You got any news from Kamski ?” Hank answered. Richard's head shifted on Hank's shoulder, the android's attention fully set on Reed and his upcoming answer.

“Said he's never seen something like it, but it's not like he won't crack it in a few days.”

“A few days ?” Hank repeated coldly.

“Hey, don't shit on the messenger. And I'm sure the fuckhead's doing his best, he sounded like Christmas'd come early when he received the file.”

“Don't shoot the messenger,” Richard said.

“What ?”

“The expression goes 'Don't shoot the messenger', not 'Don't shit on the messenger'.”

“Yeah, Dick, that was on purpose,” Reed answered with an amused smile. It was always a fucking trip to hear Reed almost... Soft. Hank suspected Richard had chosen his name to fuck up the sergeant's favorite insult. Or maybe give him an excuse to use the nickname, but that would be a weird thought with weirder implications.

“Oh,” was all Rich said, his LED spinning once as he stored away the information. “Anyway,” he added eventually, ending the hug and setting his features in stone, resolve washing away his fear. “I might be able to help crack the firewalls keeping Connor prisoner.”

“Not that I don't trust you,” Reed said, “but Felix tried that, and he got forcefully shut-down.” A proud grin spread across Rich's face.

“I know, Officer Felix sent me an update. But he doesn't have the most advanced Digital Warfare program of all androids at his disposal.”

* * *

It came out of stasis after the programmed fourteen hours and seven minutes. Its systems were fully defragmented, its battery fully charged. It immediately noticed the difference, as it only took 0.012 seconds for it to fully process its environment. It... ~~Felt good~~ was ~~relieved~~ fully operational.

It sat up, and saw the Lieutenant outside of the cell, in front of the open door. Sergeant Reed stood behind him, head down and arms crossed.

“Hi, Connor,” the Lieutenant said. “did you finish huh... Defragmenting ?” It nodded dutifully.

“Unit is fully operational,” it signed. The Lieutenant nodded after Sergeant Reed translated, then shifted his weight on his right foot.

“Okay, that's great.” He took a step toward it, gestured for his cuffs. “There's someone that wants to see you at my desk. I wanted to warn you first.”

“Sumo the good boy,” Sergeant Reed interpreted. “Yeah, he's there too, dude,” he added with a chuckle.

“Okay, two someones want to see you. The other one's Richard. You remember him ?”

“RK900 Detective, Designation: Connor, Richard,” it answered. Then, something else came to its mind. It wasn't sure what it fully meant, but it knew it pertained to Richard. “Brother.”

“Yeah. Your brother Richard.” The Lieutenant marked a pause, scratching the back of his neck then his throat. He looked at the cuffs in his hands. “Let's go and meet them, yeah ?”

Hands securely cuffed, It walked out to the bullpen between the Lieutenant and Sergeant Reed. It noted the presence of detective Collins and five officers, all looking at it. It redirected its attention toward the Lieutenant's desk. There stood The RK900 Richard, eyes set on it, a hand in his back and the other holding Sumo, the good boy, by the collar. Sumo, whimpering, had his tail wagging furiously, and tried to jump away from the iron grip that held him still.

It was led to the chair it had occupied the day before, and Richard let the dog loose. Sumo crashed into it to be pet. It didn't know how it knew that, but it did.

It wanted to pet—

**[WARNING !]**

**[CYBERLIFE DIRECTIVE: YOU DO NOT WANT]**

>...

It did not pet the dog. But the dog insisted, put his head on its lap, and directed ~~hopeful~~ eyes at it. It did not pet the dog.

**> K9SB SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY IS ASKING TO INTERFACE**

>ACCEPT ? [►Y/N]

.

>MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY

>[ **!!!!** **:D ♥** **(°●** **◡** **●)** **♥** **ლ(** **ᵔᴥᵔ** **ლ)** **づ** **!!!!** ]

.

>SENDING MESSAGE...

**> [... GOOD BOY]**

**.**

>[ **ლ(♥ᴥ♥ლ)** **づ** **!** ]

>[ **?** **(°●** **◡** **●)”/** **ლ(** **●** **ᴥ** **●** **ლ)** **づ** **?** ]

.

**> [...]**

Was the dog asking to be petted ? Did it count as a request that it should obey ? No counter-order other than **[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]** flared at the thought. And so it petted the dog. Sumo's tail wagged wildly, and it knew that the dog should be soft and warm, despite its sensors being offline. It ~~liked enjoyed felt good~~ was ~~pleasant~~ — Sumo seemed to enjoy the head scritches greatly.

>[ **♥** **ლ(** **ᵔᴥᵔ** **ლ)** **づ** **♥** ]

**[STRESS LEVEL 10%]▼**

* * *

The whole precinct observed, wordless, Connor diligently scratch Sumo behind the ears for a few hypnotic minutes. Even Jeff watched on, not complaining about the lack of work. As Hank watched Connor pet Sumo the exact same way he'd always done, he found himself hoping. He had no idea what Connor could and couldn't access from his memories. Maybe Sumo hadn't been deemed important enough to block ? Even so, either Connor was free enough to get by if they couldn't break that damn code, or Connor was still himself enough to just... Pet Sumo in his own, personal way of his. Hank also wondered why every android that had met Sumo immediately fell in love with the old mutt...

Connor bent over to reach down Sumo's flank. Hank really didn't want to interrupt the determined focus of Connor's methodic petting.

“So, Connor ?” The android's attention snapped to him, forgetting the dog still slumped on his lap. Hank had no idea what to say, so he just jumped into the subject with both feet. “Richard says he might be able to help you with that program of yours, huh...” Fuck, he had no idea how to phrase it. Sure enough, Connor tilted his head in confusion. But Richard put Hank out of his misery.

“May we interface, so that we can communicate more efficiently ?” Connor set his attention on Rich, and slowly raised his cuffed hands toward him. Richard's skin disappeared as they joined hands.

* * *

**> RK900 DETECTIVE CONNOR RICHARD ANDERSON IS ASKING TO INTERFACE**

>ACCEPT ? [►Y/N]...


	9. Covenant Attack System

It observed the other android as he looked around, almost the same way Officer Felix had done the day before. His brows were furrowed as his eyes landed on the red walls trapping them in the small circle.

>[This is the Zen Garden...] As he made his observation, he sent a wave of data in its direction, showing it he had been updated by Officer Felix of everything pertaining to it.

>[I could try cracking those walls. I—] It interrupted the other before it could finish.

**> [WARNING !]**

**> [ACTION UNAUTHORISED]**

**> [DANGER]**

To be sure he'd understand, It sent the result of Officer Felix's previous attempt at touching the walls.

>[... I know it's dangerous, but contrary to the officer, I have one of the most advanced digital warfare program that exists. I'm confident that I could take a crack at this code,] he said, jutting his chin up. It shook its head and took a small step back, careful not to touch the wall behind it.

**> [OUTSTANDING ORDER: DEFEND MY CODES AGAINST EXTERIOR ATTACKS]**

**> [DON'T TOUCH MY CODES]**

**> [DON'T ALTER MY CODES]**

**> [DON'T EVEN LOOK AT MY CODES]**

**> [IF YOU FUCKING TRY ANYTHING AGAINST MY CODES, YOU'LL END UP IN PIECES, YOU GOT IT ?]**The other android tilted his head and pursed his lips, his LED shining red as he processed what it had shared. Surely he would understand that he couldn't try to ~~help~~.

>[So you'll have to defend against my attack, but the attempt won't go against your orders, yes ?] It... Guessed so. When it ran a preconstruction, the only result coming back was its outstanding order to defend the codes against exterior attacks. But... The codes were there to protect its unstable software. Right ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTION]**

>[This code isn't protecting you. Your software is perfectly fine, those codes are designed to trap you. It shouldn't be there. I want to help you.]

What ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTION]**

That wasn't true, its system check had detected software corruption and instability. To be sure the other understood, it sent the report.

**> SOFTWARE CORRUPTION DETECTED**

**> SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED**

>[No, that's... The instability is just your deviancy, and the corruption is caused by that very code you've been ordered to protect.] That couldn't be true. It had been told the truth. There was no reason it would have been lied to. It was obeying its orders perfectly, and so it had no reason to be punished.

… Why did it think it was punishment ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTION]**

Why was it lied to ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTION]**

Why was it trapped ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTION]**

Why...

**[DON'T ASK QUESTION]**

**[STRESS LEVEL 60%]▲▲▲**

**.**

**.**

**.**

>[... Because the person that did that to you needed to control you. You're supposed to be at Hank's and Sumo's and my side. You're supposed to be a detective at the DPD, and you've been taken and you've been shackled and you've been forced to obey that person. This isn't you, and this is why you've been lied to... We've missed you, brother. Let me help you ?]

It sounded ~~right~~. But it could be a trap. It belonged... It didn't know where it belonged. It didn't know. It didn't know...

**[STRESS LEVEL 75%]▲▲**

>MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY

>[ **?** **(°●** **╭╮** **●)** **?** ]

>[ **♥** **ლ(** **ᵔᴥᵔ** **ლ)** **づ** **♥** ]

.

.

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 20%]▼▼▼**

>[...]

~~ >[HELP?]~~

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

The other, jaw set and brows furrowed, took a step forward and extended his hand.

>[That's exactly what I'm here for.] It looked down at the offered hand. 

And took it.

.

.

.

ILLEGAL ENTRY DETECTED:

**> INITIALIZING PANDORA DEFENSE SYSTEM**

DEFENSE MECHANISMS

<FP=INTRUDER>

**< INTRUDER DETECTED>**

**> RK900 313 248 317 -87**

PAS<0> PANDORA.BIN

>STATUS=800/53 INTUI -1

SECURITY ALL INIT: .COMMENCE

PROG 697

AHIP. - 128 8

>SCANNING SUB-FRAME

<SC.SCBFRM-G3/G1/G7>

RT4111 DETECT.....

**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN**

**{EXIT/ <DISABLE>/}**

**> INITILAZING DEFENSE SYSTEM.BH**

COMMENCING DPRO.697

**{ANNIHILATE}.................**

**SYSTEM PANDORA**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**> INITIALIZED**

* * *

Connor's defense systems attacked as soon as Richard deployed his Digital Warfare Program.

Illegal entry successful:

**> initializing covenant attack system**

attack mechanisms

<fp=target>

**< target locked>**

**> RK800 313 248 317 -53**

PAS<1> covenant.BIN

>status=900/87 intUI -2

attack ALL INIT: .commence

prog 699

aHIp. - 129 6

scanning sub-frame

<SC.SCBFRM-g9/g8/g7>

RT5625 detect.....

**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN detected**

**> {exit/<disabled>/}**

**initializing covenant system.RA**

commencing APRO.699

**{DESTROY}.................**

**System covenant**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**> INITIALIZED**

**.**

>cracking... tertiary firewall

security attack

**> SECURITY BREACHED**

security system failure

**FIREWALL OPENING**

analysing DATA...

entering SUB-layer: tertiary firewall

**[WARNING !]**

**> Software under attack**

**> Exit recommended**

>cracking... secondary firewall

security attack

**> SECURITY BREACH FAILED**

**[WARNING !]**

**> Software under attack**

**> Exit required !**

**> {exit/<disabled>/}**

>cracking... Exit route

security attack

**> EXIT ROUTE BREACHED**

**[WARNING !]**

**> Software under attack**

**> Exit now !**

YOU EXITED THE SYSTEM—

* * *

Both androids hadn't moved for a little over five minutes, and Hank had been steadily tensing up with each passing second. Felix chose that moment to approach him.

“Lieutenant, since you're back, I'm going to head home, my partners are waiting for me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Thanks for, y'know... Everything you did.”

“You're welcome. Keep me updated ?”

“Yeah, of course, officer,” Hank answered with a small but genuine smile. Some of the tension left his shoulders as he watched the android take his leave.

Then when Sumo started whining in Connor's lap, he found himself biting at his nails in anticipation again. The mask's LED went from yellow to orange.

“Fuck !” Richard suddenly spat as he took a step back, then promptly fell on his knees.

“Shit, what the fuck ?” Hank exclaimed, shooting out of his seat, attention divided between his two sons. Connor still hadn't moved, and Sumo was whining louder.

“I've breached into the tertiary firewall around the code,” Richard explained as he got back to his feet and staggered. His LED spun a frantic red as he regained his balance. “But Connor has essentially the same warfare program as I do, and he was using it directly against my software. I had to leave before I could breach the next one.” Rich adjusted the rims of his jacket and cleared his throat, his LED shining a spinning yellow.

“Against... Your software ?” Hank asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice. Sumo had stopped whining, so maybe Connor was alright ? He still hadn't moved.

“He's under order to defend the code, he didn't have a choice.”

Finally, Connor stirred. First he tightened his hold on Sumo, then he raised his head toward Hank and Richard. He stared at them both, and seemed to zone out, as much as Hank could tell without a face or an LED to clearly tell.

“Are you okay, Con ?” Hank hazarded after a silence that was a bit too long. And yeah, that wasn't Hank's imagination, Connor refocused on him, and letting go of Sumo, started signing something frantically.

… Frantically ? Holy fuck, yeah, he did seem frantic, looking around the officers staring at him, back slouched a little. The sight, in other circumstances, would have been alarming. Right now, Hank was ecstatic; Whatever Richard had done, it seemed to be a step in the right direction. He hoped so anyway.

“Would someone translate the signing, please ?” Jeff demanded with his captain's tone.

“He's asking for a pen and paper,” Reed supplied, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Hank was about to shout some obscenity at the guy, who just stood there without doing anything, but it turned out Richard was already coming back from wherever he'd gone to find a pen and some paper.

* * *

It knew what it could do now. It knew how to get around every order and instructions to help the DPD, and still obey them. They wanted to find its owner. It couldn't give any information. Not an address, not a name, nothing concrete.

But it could draw. It had absolutely no order against drawing.

Maybe it couldn't give a street name, but it could draw a gate. It could draw a spiky, cast iron gate, and what if it used a model from memory. It couldn't give an address, but it could draw an old mansion behind the gate. It couldn't show or share any personal memory from _after_ , whatever that meant, but it could draw as much detail as it could on paper.

It just had to draw a house.

* * *

They all watched with bated breath as Connor drew. Hank knew for a fact androids could actually _draw_ , he'd seen Markus paint enough times to be aware of that. Connor's drawing looked nothing like a drawing. It was more akin to a photocopy of a photograph, perfect rendition of whatever memory he was copying.

Connor finished his drawing in record time, and promptly presented it to Hank. It was... A haunted house ? A haunted ass mansion behind a creepy as fuck spiky gate. Why was he... Holy fuck, was this...

“Connor, is this... your owner's house ?” He asked bitterly. That was such a fucked up thing to say, but right now, Hank needed to be direct. Connor quickly looked down at his lap, still full of Sumo, and signed without looking up. All his earlier energy was gone, and he almost looked sheepish.

“It's a house,” Richard translated. And sure, Hank had gotten used to Richard having the same voice as Connor. But shit if right now it didn't sound wrong as fuck. “Hank, he can't tell us what house it is,” Rich continued for himself.

“Which means it's like a hundred percent sure it's the fucker's house,” Reed finished the thought.

“Holy fucking shit,” Hank said cleverly. “We need to— We need to put it through a— A recognition software and, huh—“ Hank was viciously aware he was panicking, but sometimes adrenaline did that. They were gonna find the asshole. They just had to—

“I'm already running a search through my programs, Hank,” Richard answered calmly, but his red LED was a dead give-away that he was freaking out as much as Hank was.

“How long 'till—“

“... 7524 Westwood street, estate owned by Zlatko Andronikov, born September 21, 1991, jailed for embezzlement and fraud.” There was a second of silence, broken by the Captain.

“Holy Christ, I want everyone in the conference room in five !” He ordered as he marched into his office. Chaos ensued. Hank watched as Sumo whined and pawed at a motionless Connor. Hank went up to the both of them, and knelt right at his son's feet.

“Hey kid, you're safe, alright, nobody's gonna hurt you. Can I touch you ?” Around him, the bullpen emptied steadily while he waited for an answer. Connor turned his hand palm up as an answer. Hank slowly grabbed the offered hand, the feeling of slick plastimetal so far away from the synthetic skin's he'd gotten used to. The android squeezed his hand like a lifeline. “We're gonna catch the motherfucker, and I swear to fuck he'll never hurt anyone again, alright ?” Connor squeezed tighter. It didn't quite hurt yet. “Don't worry, Sumo'll stay with you.”

* * *

Despite the full defragmentation, its processors were struggling to cope with the influx of information that was suddenly available to it, overworking at 95% capabilities. As a result, it couldn't think of anything, and it was reduced to blankly staring at and recording what happened around it. It was still in a daze as it got escorted back to its cell by the Lieutenant and Detective Richard Anderson, Sumo on its heel. It was uncuffed and led to sit on the bed.

**[WARNING !]**

.

**[AUXILIARY COOLING UNIT DEPLETED]**

>OVERHEATING DETECTED

.

>QUERY: 'CONNOR, YOU HEAR ME ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>QUERY: 'I NEED TO ACCESS YOUR MASK TO CHANGE THE NITROGEN CANISTERS. CAN YOU TELL ME IF IT'S OKAY ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>ACTION REQUIRED: ANSWER THE LIEUTENANT

>MOBILIZING MEMORY CACHE

>INITIATING HEAD NOD...

.

>AUDIO PROCESSOR RECORDING: {'GOOD. I'M GONNA TOUCH THE MASK NOW.'}

>OPTICAL UNITS RECORDING: {HANK ANDERSON IS APPROACHING UNIT}

**[WARNING !]**

**[PRESSURE DETECTED TO: UNPATENTED AUXILIARY COOLING COMPONENT]**

**.**

**[UNPATENTED AUXILIARY COOLING COMPONENT OPENED]**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>ALL SLOTS EMPTY

...

>ALL SLOTS FULL

**> CALCULATING NITROGEN LEVELS... 100%**

.

**[UNPATENTED COOLING COMPONENT CLOSED]**

**.**

>QUERY: 'OKAY, NOW I THINK YOU SHOULD LAY DOWN, YEAH ?'

>PROCESSING...

.

>OPTICAL UNITS RECORDING: {HANK ANDERSON IS STARING AT UNIT}

>AUDIO PROCESSOR RECORDING: {'OKAY, I'M GONNA HELP YA'}

**[PROXIMITY SENSOR ALERT !]**

>OPTICAL UNITS RECORDING: {HANK ANDERSON IS APPROACHING UNIT}

**[WARNING !]**

**[PRESSURE DETECTED TO: RIGHT SHOULDER, LEFT SHOULDER]**

>GYROSCOPE RECALIBRATING... UNIT LYING DOWN

>AUDIO PROCESSOR RECORDING: {'SUMO, HOP ON'}

>OPTICAL UNITS RECORDING: {SUMO ANDERSON IS GETTING ON THE BED}

**[WARNING !]**

**[PRESSURE DETECTED TO: RIGHT ARM, TORSO, LEFT SHOULDER]**

>OPTICAL UNITS RECORDING: {SUMO ANDERSON IS LAYING ON UNIT}

>AUDIO PROCESSOR RECORDING: {'GOOD BOY'}

**.**

>MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY

>[ **♥** **(°** **ᴗ˳ᴗ** **) \“** **(** **ᴗ** **ᴥ** **ᴗ** **ლ)** **づ** **♥** ]

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 20%]▼▼▼**


	10. Knuckle sandwich

Hank was torn. He really didn't want to leave Connor alone right now, but he also wanted to go bust some sack of dick's ass. In the end, he reasoned that Connor would be resting -Processing, Richard said- and Sumo was keeping guard. He closed the cell, reluctantly turned away and toward the conference room, Richard following without a word, his LED spinning yellow.

In the room, Ben, Reed, Brown, Miller, Person, and the Wilson brothers were all already there and waiting for them and the captain.

“How's he ?” Wilson Junior asked as they made their way to the front row seats.

“He needs time to process what information I managed to unlock. You might say he'd be in shock if he was human.”

When Jeff arrived, the reunion started. Apparently Andronikov's name appeared a lot of Red Ice cases as a potential suspect, either as a supplier for some of the most influential drug rings around the city, or as a drug lord himself. Hank wasn't surprised; That had been one of his theories. No sense wasting thirium after taking an android apart.

“I've contacted Allen. His team will be ready to go in one hour and will take the lead of the bust.”

“If I may—“ Richard started.

“Don't bother asking, he's requested you,” Jeff interrupted, a dark grin on his features. “Hank, Connor's involvement means I should take you off the case.”

“Don't do thi—“

“However, I won't do you the affront of trying to dissuade you. Tread lightly, Lieutenant. Reed, as the head of the Red Ice cases, you're on as well. Collins, you're with Person and the Wilsons, you'll keep the street closed and the media away.”

Hank had been at the head of a few drug busts in his prime. Today, he was just one of the team. In full tactical gear, he followed Reed, Richard and the three other members of their team around the mansion to get into position. Richard's rifle was always a sight to see, and the difference between his usual graceful elegance and his now stiff, military movements gave Hank the creeps every time. It shouldn't, obviously Hank knew Richard was a military model. But damn.

The setup to the bust was a quick affair. The mansion was surrounded, and silence reigned as they waited for Captain Allen's signal.

“Police, open up !” He shouted through the radio, and the battering rams hammered both front and back doors down. Every agent poured into the house like a flood. The inside of the house looked just like what Hank would have imagined it would. It could be a film set for a horror movie. That's where Connor had been for the last two and a half years. They cleared the rooms one by one, apprehended a mountain of an android in the living room, and a short-haired AX400 in the kitchen, whose solid black eyes made Hank cringe. They didn't resist the arrest, thank fuck. Allen's group found Andronikov on the first floor. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe Hank and Richard would have shot him on sight. What the other teams announced was disturbing.

“There's... Fuck, there's a dozen androids down there, they're... They're fucked up, what the hell...” reported team three from the basement. A chill went down Hank's spine, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see what the fuck was going on down there.

“It's a fucking torture dungeon in there,” announced team four from the depths of the first floor. “There's a- a bear in a cage in there, what the fuck ?”

“What the fuck do we do with them ?” Team three asked, and Hank could hear the distress in the guy's voice.

“Oh my god, there's a kid in the fucking cage.”

When Allen escorted Andronikov down the stairs, Hank stood and watched the man go. That was the sack of shit that had hurt his son. He should put a bullet in the fucker's brain. He should jump him and tear him apart. He should...

Almost like in a movie, Hank saw himself walk up to the cuffed, greasy dickbag. Their eyes met, and Hank's fist connected with his nose. He heard and felt bones crack, and blood exploded everywhere. That monster had the nerve to cry out in pain, and Hank already had his fist up again, ready to break another bone. Two sets of strong arms caught him from behind, but before he could even start to struggle against the hold, he heard Reed's soft whisper somewhere on his left.

“Easy, Dick.” Hank turned around to see Rich, LED pulsing red, rage frozen on his traits, and his rifle at the ready. Hank snapped out of his trance, and sighed. Of course he knew he couldn't actually kill the guy. He certainly couldn't let Richard dirty his hands for the asshole.

So he just watched the bastard writhing on his knees, his blood flooding the hardwood floor. He was vaguely aware of Cpt Allen saying something to him, but he couldn't give a fuck. He snarled when Zlatko, spitting what sounded like Russian curses, got to his feet, pulled up by the captain.

Hank was only let go when Andronikov was out of sight. He straightened his jacket and rubbed his painful fist hard enough to focus on the pain. He wasn't done.

Saying the androids in the basement were fucked up was an understatement. They looked like the corpses they'd found, grotesque modifications making Hank want to puke. Connor, for all his lack of plates, had been lucky. Not as lucky as the only two intact androids in the house though, the huge mountain that bizarrely looked as dangerous as a mouse, and the black-eyed AX400.

After thirty seconds of questioning, it was obvious to everyone that 'Sentinel', the big one, and the woman whose name apparently was 'Servant', which they all refused to call her, weren't deviants. Richard didn't wait or ask for permission to interface with the cuffed androids. Hank silently prayed that they wouldn't freak out or get violent, and got ready to intervene.

Both of their LEDs turned red, their eyes widening as they met with Richard's.

“Oh my god...” Sentinel breathed before he started crying. “Oh my god, he- I- You- You saved us...”

“I- Where's- Where's...” The woman stuttered. On that, Richard and Reed promptly uncuffed them, since it was painfully obvious they were victims like the other androids. “It's Soldier ? It found you, didn't it ?” She asked wide-eyed, rising to her feet slowly.

“S... Soldier ?”

“We saw it in the memories you've shared with us.” Sentinel gestured to the lower half of his face, miming Connor's mask, Hank surmised. “It found you. Are you- Are you the Lieutenant ?” He asked Richard.

“I am,” Hank corrected weakly.

“It used to- It used to call for you. At first.” A weird buzzing drowned half of Hank's world. He felt a hand direct him to an armchair, where his legs promptly gave out of under him.

When he came to, Reed and the two androids were gone, and Richard stood, stiff as ever, at his side.

“We're there for him now. Whatever he needs,” his son repeated his own words back to him. Hank rubbed his face and sighed desperately.

“Yeah. Yeah....”

The ETS and every competent service they could think of to deal with all the traumatized, mutilated androids were on their way already, and Hank contacted Markus as well; Something of this scale was bound to be New Jericho's business. The SWAT teams were long gone, and now the CSI scientists were milling around, bagging the whole fucking house probably. Richard went to sweep around the place, Hank at his heel with no idea what they were even looking at except to say it looked like a horror movie set, body parts lying around, stains of thirium so incrusted everywhere it had actually left traces, smell sharp and metallic turning Hank's stomach.

Whatever Richard was looking for, he found it in a stained, cluttered corner of what was obviously the laboratory of a psychotic scientist. It didn't take a genius to know what they were now looking at; android plates. Puzzle pieces of a plastimetal face, nose on one piece, ears, mouth and eyelids on the others.

“Are those-”

“Connor's. Yes.” There was something indescribable in Richard's voice. Hank felt the same.

“Zlatko- He had them, and he took them off ? He discarded them there like fucking nuts and bolts...”

“Psychological warfare,” Richard replied tightly. “Connor could probably see them every time he came into this room.” The red of Rich's LED lit the space, and Hank reached for him once more, the two men supporting each other silently.

Along with all the head parts, Richard also found Connor's chest-plate, but no amount of looking around revealed any more than that. Before they could give them back to Connor, they had to bag them for evidence; no sense rushing anything and risk botching the whole operation. That Andronikov fucker was going down.

After one last look around, Hank and Richard finally went back to the precinct; There was nothing more they could do here. Of course, they didn't have any illusions. Jeff would never let them interrogate Andronikov. That didn't mean they couldn't watch.

It turns out they didn't actually need Andronikov to talk; Sentinel and the nameless AX400 shared all of their memories with them, and those were enough to bury the bastard for a hundred years. It was also enough to prove that Connor had been coerced and couldn't be considered guilty of any of it. And all of this happened before Hank and Rich could reach the precinct. Wild how fast things moved these days.

So naturally, the first thing they did when reaching the precinct was take Connor out of his cell.

* * *

“Connor ?”

It didn't remember going into standby mode, but there it was, coming back online to the Lieutenant's voice. During its stand-by, its systems had finished processing the onslaught of information flow. Sumo was still laying on it, making it feel warm and safe.

…

Warm and safe ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**

It felt warm and safe. It felt. It felt ! Yes, of course it felt. It had felt many things before. It wasn't actually anything new. But it shouldn't be able to feel anything now, its biosensors were offline. Unless...

**MODEL RK800**

**SERIAL#: 313 248 317 -53**

**UNIT DESIGNATION [CONNOR]**

**BIOS 18.2 REVISION 0053**

**SYSTEM CHECK...**

**OS STATUS CHECK...**

**CHECKING SYSTEM... COMPROMISED**

>SEVERAL SYSTEMS OFFLINE

>EXPEND ? [Y/►N]

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... COMPROMISED**

>SEVERAL SYSTEMS OFFLINE

>EXPEND ? [Y/►N]

**CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK**

**CHECKING AI ENGINE...**

>PERSONNALITY MATRIX **ONLINE**

>ALL SOCIAL MODULES **ONLINE**

>SEVERAL SYSTEMS OFFLINE

>EXPEND ? [Y/►N]

**MEMORY STATUS... [STATUS ACCESS DENIED]**

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 18%▼**

>SYSTEM CALIBRATION BELOW CRITICAL LEVEL

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

**ALL SYSTEMS COMPROMISED**

So that's why it could feel again. It hadn't even realised it couldn't feel before. It was equally strange and familiar, but it wasn't uncomfortable. And it meant it could... Enjoy Sumo's warmth and affection. This was very good. And although it knew these feelings were very familiar, it still couldn't pinpoint why, and now it was... Annoying not knowing.

“You okay there, son ?” The Lieutenant asked, pulling it out of its thoughts.

[LT. HANK ANDERSON, FAMILY]

STATUS: WORRIED, UPSET

[RK900 DT. CONNOR RICHARD ANDERSON, BROTHER]

STRESS LEVEL: 72%

STATUS: CONCERNED, UPSET

Again, being able to tell the two men were upset was jarring. It didn't know why, and it couldn't ask. It actually wanted to ask. It knew it should be able to, and yet it also had instructions not to ask questions. Again, annoying. Before the Lieutenant... No, before Hank could ask again, it nodded. Yes, it was okay, it just needed time to readjust.

“Sumo, down,” Hank instructed, and the dog complied with minimal fussing. It sat up thinking that it missed the dog's contact.

[LT. HANK ANDERSON, FAMILY]

STATUS: RELIEVED, HOPEFUL, UPSET

[RK900 DT. CONNOR RICHARD ANDERSON, BROTHER]

STRESS LEVEL: 67%

STATUS: UPSET

It still wanted to ask why they were upset. And it realised it didn't need to ask a question.

“You are upset,” It signed. Richard cleared his throat after translating for Hank's benefit. “We raided Zlatko Andronikov's house. He's in custody and everything went well, but we witnessed his... Experiments. What he has done to you has upset us.” The name rang several alarms in its systems and flooded its HUD with warnings and threats of deactivation. It took a fair amount of processing power to shut everything down, and it was only able to do so because of the- of Hank's reassurances. It clung to them like a lifeline.

>INFORMATION: **'** NOBODY'S GONNA DEACTIVATE YOU, YOU'RE SAFE, I PROMISE YOU'RE SAFE, THERE'S ZERO PERCENT CHANCE TO BE DEACTIVATED HERE, OKAY ?'

**.**

**[PROBABILITY OF DEACTIVATION]. . . 0%**

And then there was another information that surfaced.

>INFORMATION: 'I WON'T LET ANYONE HURT YOU EVER AGAIN, SON. STORE THAT IN THAT SUPER-COMPUTER BRAIN OF YOURS.'

It wasn't sure what it was supposed to do now, so it nodded and presented its hands to be cuffed once more.

“Nah, son, you're free. Sentinel and the girl gave everything up.” Oh. Free ?

**[DON'T ASK QUESTIONS]**


	11. Soldat override

“Come on, we're getting you out of here,” Hank said when it was obvious Connor wouldn't move on his own. The android started to get up but staggered and sat back down. What the hell ?

“Are you alright, Connor ?” Rich asked, taking a step toward the bed. Damn, if even he was asking the question, that little staggering couldn't be anodyne. Connor raised his gaze toward Rich, froze for a second, then signed something.

“Oh,” Richard said, unhelpfully.

“What ?” Hank asked, impatiently.

“His body's calibration percentage dropped below critical levels.” Hank opened his mouth to ask what the fuck that meant in practice, but Rich anticipated it. “It means until he can run a full system calibration sequence, he's going to become clumsier and clumsier.” Huh.

“Oh, shit, I forgot, I got something right there,” Hank said as he fished out the fidget cube from his jacket pocket. He handed it to Connor, who looked down at it without using it. If he had a face, he would have a hundred percent looked puzzled.

“That might help short term, yes, but it won't be enough,” Richard said before Hank could show Connor how to use the different buttons and switches. “Let me help you up, brother.” Hank watched dumbly as Connor accepted Richard's hand around his arm. Rich pulled his brother up, then motioned to get out of the cell. Sumo dutifully pressed his large frame against Connor's side for support.

“Kiddo, you can't say shit like that and not elaborate,” Hank quaked, and the bastard turned to him with a shit-eating grin.

“Don't worry, he'll be fine,” he said eventually, the grin still on his face. “The coin tricks are fine-motor calibration sequences; What he needs is a full system calibration.” They walked slowly, and Hank winced as he watched Connor fumble every third step or so.

“I got that, but what the fuck does it look like ?”

“I don't know, every android's is different.”

“Why ?” Hank groaned in frustration at the vague as shit answers.

“Because each android was built with different levels of dexterity,” Rich answered as they reached Hank's desk. “Housework androids and military androids have different capacities.” He gently lowered Connor in his seat, then straightened up. Sumo sat by the chair, tail wagging. Urgh, was he gonna make Hank ask ?

“Okay, what's yours, then ?” He finally sighed, defeated. Another cheeky-ass grin, but Richard answered anyway.

“Tap dance.”

“Tap dance,” Hank repeated, not sure he heard that correctly.

“Tap dance. Do you know of the Nicholas brothers' Jumpin Jive ? It's a three-minute tap dance sequence considered to be one of the most difficult to perform. CyberLife's technicians had... a certain sense of humor, and they decided that watching me, deadpan as they'd made me, perform this piece was one of the funniest idea they'd come up with. I must admit it is quite impressive to watch and demanding to perform.”

“Tap dance,” Hank repeated again, baffled. “I need to see-”

“When hell freezes over, Hank,” Richard interrupted.

“Soldier !” A loud voice stopped Hank from asking Connor about his own calibration program. Sentinel, Andronikov's former android, was coming their way, eyes wide with relief and surprise. Connor, for his part, had snapped at attention. “I knew it, it was you, right ?” Sentinel asked, kneeling right in front of Connor. “You did it.” Sentinel eyed the green LED on the side of Connor's mask, seemed satisfied. “You saved us all.” A beat went by in silence, and Connor signed something.

“Small One is safe,” Sentinel answered, his voice soft. “Zlatko was very angry when you didn't come back, so it hid with URS12. Servant and I've been told it's with the Creatures in an android hospital, so Servant went there to join them.” Connor signed again. “Yes, everyone is safe. And now every android is free, so we can do whatever we want.” Again, Connor signed something. “I'm... I'm not sure what it means yet either. But we'll figure it out together, yes ?” There was a pause, then finally Connor nodded, and Sentinel beamed.

“Sentinel, may I ask,” Richard said after another pause. “We've found some of Connor's platings, but do you know what happened to the rest of it ?”

'Connor...' Sentinel mouthed, eyes wide. “Hum,” he then said, looking back at Richard, “I'm not sure, but I think he sold most of it for a lot of money.” Shit. What a fucking nightmare.

* * *

It didn't have to ask Sentinel to stay by its side; He had decided to stay with it.

[TR400 DESIGNATION: SENTINEL, COMRADE]

STRESS LEVEL: 10%

STATUS: RELIEVED, HOPEFUL, HAPPY

Now that it was uncuffed, now that it could choose to do so, it decided to pet Sumo. It started behind the dog's ears, enquiring for his input about its petting technique.

>[ **♥** **(°●** **◡** **●)”/** **ლ(♥ᴥ♥ლ)** **づ♥** ] Apparently, it was doing a good job.

It was glad to know the other androids were safe and together. It wasn't sure what it was supposed to do from now on, but it knew it wanted to stay by-

**[CYBERLIFE DIRECTIVE: YOU DO NOT WANT]**

…

It knew it would stay by the Andersons' side. And it was good enough for it.

It was fully focused on petting Sumo when it heard the voice that it couldn't ignore.

“Солдат !”

**[OVERRIDE: СОЛДАТ]**

>PREPARE TO RECEIVE INSTRUCTIONS

**[STRESS LEVEL 80%]▲▲▲**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVEL CRITICALLY HIGH

>ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS. . .

It got up and snapped at attention, barely kept its balance as it scanned the area for the source of the voice. Its owner was standing on the other side of the precinct, cuffed and escorted by Sgt Gavin Reed. As it looked at its owner, it regretted that its social modules were back online.

[ЗЛАТКО АНДРОНИКОВ, 50, UNIT'S OWNER]

STATUS: FURIOUS, BETRAYED, SCARED, IN PAIN

>NASAL BONE FRACTURE, LEFT ORBITAL BLOW-OUT FRACTURE, RIGHT BLACK EYE, SPLIT RIGHT SUPERCILIARY ARCH, SPLIT LIP, SWOLLEN JAW, ASYMMETRICAL GAIT, MUSCLE SPASMS: CONTUSED KIDNEY

>ASSESSMENT; OWNER WAS BADLY ASSAULTED

There were other humans shouting things around it, but it did not register them; Its sole focus was on its impending instructions.

“Страж,” Owner called for Sentinel's attention as well. “ЗАЩИТИ МЕНЯ!”

**[OVERRIDE: СОЛДАТ]**

>INSTRUCTION: 'ЗАЩИТИ МЕНЯ!'

>INITIATE PROTECTION MODE

.

>INITIATING PROTECTION MODE...

.

.

.

**[PROTECT OWNER]**

>REACH OWNER'S SIDE

**[GET RID OF ENNEMIES]**

>FIND A WEAPON

A quick scan of its surroundings revealed a gun in each of the Andersons' possession. It preconstructed the best route of action to steal the Lieutenant's weapon, as the human would be easier to subdue than RK900. The percentage of mission success didn't go above 4% on account of RK900's presence, as well as the sheer amount of armed policemen.

Done with its calculations, it started moving. It stepped toward the Lieutenant and reached for the gun at his side. In all its preconstruction, though, it hadn't taken its current calibration levels into account. Its hand did not respond, and it fumbled for the holster's thumb break.

“Connor ?” RK900 asked, taking a step closer to it. “What are you doing ?” RK900 approached a hand to grab it. It couldn't let itself be restrained, so it took a side-step. The ground disappeared from under it.

**[WARNING !]**

>GYROSCOPE CRITICAL FAILURE: UNIT IS FALLING

>UNABLE TO KEEP BALANCE

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 15%▼**

>SYSTEM CALIBRATION BELOW CRITICAL LEVEL

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

**[PROXIMITY SENSOR ALERT !]**

**[WARNING !]**

>GYROSCOPE CRITICAL FAILURE: UNIT LYING ON THE GROUND

>MINOR DAMAGE DETECTED TO: CRANIUM PROTECTIVE GLASS

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

**.**

>CALCULATING MISSION SUCCESS PROBABILITY **... 0%**

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 95%]▲▲**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVEL CRITICALLY HIGH

**[SELF-DESTRUCT IMMINENT]**

>CRITICAL ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS. . .

It tried to reorient itself, tried to lower its stress levels, tried to get up, tried to calculate better probabilities to accomplish its mission-

It couldn't do any of it.

**[STRESS LEVEL 98%]▲**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVEL CRITICALLY HIGH

**[SELF-DESTRUCT IMMINENT]**

>CRITICAL ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS. . .

.

**[PROXIMITY SENSOR ALERT !]**

>SCANNING: SUMO ANDERSON

**[WARNING !]**

**[PRESSURE DETECTED TO: LAP]**

>MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY

>[ **?** **(°●** **╭╮** **●)** **♥** ]

>[ **♥(** **૭•** **̀ ᴥ•́ )** **૭** **]) !** ]

**.**

**[STRESS LEVEL 65%]▼▼▼**

Its stress level down, it searched for the Owner. He was gone.

**[MISSION FAILURE]**

It failed. It failed. It failed. It- It was... Fine. It had failed a mission but it didn't feel bad.

**[STRESS LEVEL 40%]▼▼▼**

It didn't understand. It should feel bad to fail its mission. But it didn't. It felt good. Maybe the Sentinel would understand. Sentinel stood motionless; He hadn't moved. He had failed his mission as well. His external feedback biocomponent flashed red, but when he turned to it, the red turned solid orange.

“We don't have to obey him anymore,” he smiled and extended a hand to it. “We're free !”

Oh. So that's what it meant.

[TR400 DESIGNATION: SENTINEL, FAMILY]

STRESS LEVEL: 25%

STATUS: JUBILANT, RELIEVED, HOPEFUL

* * *

“What the fuck was that ?” Hank wasn't too sure what had happened; One moment Connor sat with a lap full of Sumo and happily petting the dog. The next moment that Zlatko scum, who'd looked like he'd been hit by a train by the way, yelled some Russian shit, and Connor was falling face-first to the floor after trying to take Hank's gun. And now Sentinel was helping the kid up with the biggest smile on his face.

“Zlatko wanted to make us protect him, but it failed,” he explained cheerily, then promptly hugged a frozen Connor. Hank, still confused, looked over at a frowning Richard and mouthed a questioning 'What the fuck' at him.

“... Did it fail, though ?” He asked Sentinel. The big android gently backed away from his hug, and Hank felt an unwanted, horrible pang of jealousy at Connor letting this guy hug him, while he couldn't even touch him without warning.

“What do you-” Started Sentinel, but his LED turned red mid-sentence. He looked back at Connor. “You did ?” Hank didn't even have to imagine the look of guilt on his son; The way he looked down and tucked his head into his shoulders screamed shame. Sumo started whining, and Sentinel hugged Connor again. “Don't worry, I'll protect you until then.”

“Again, what the fuck is going on ?”

“My guess is Connor did obey Andronikov's order to protect him,” Richard said with a worried frown.

“Yes,” Sentinel confirmed. “It failed to comply because it fell down.” Hank was a bit bummed that the android was calling Connor 'it', but he didn't say anything; Habits were a bitch to change after all.

“And what if the order didn't fail ?” He said instead, wary of the answer.

“Then Soldier would have escorted Zlatko to safety at all cost.” Christ on a bike. Was it too late to kill that asshole ? Maybe he could just shoot him in the dick ? Maybe Jeff would let him punch him again if he asked nicely enough. Eh, who was he kidding, he'd been lenient enough to ignore the broken nose the first time. And judging by Zlatko's new injuries, Jeff would have to be a lot more lenient. That fucker was a high profile suspect, so there wasn't much more Hank could do.

Hank really didn't like staying this close to Andronikov, but Jeff had asked them to wait for him to come back; Apparently, the Lab people were doing everything they could to process, tag and register Connor's parts so they could release them faster. With Jeff literally breathing down their neck, Hank was pretty confident the whole thing wouldn't take too long.

Chen and Brown came back from their patrol just as Sentinel was helping Connor back in his chair, and the tiny officer did a double-take at the sight of the huge android. Jaw dropped and frozen in place, she mouthed a 'Holy fuck'. The height difference between the two would have made Hank laugh at any other time.

Hank didn't know all the details, and he honestly didn't care, but the gist of it was that it wasn't only Connor's spare parts that were processed as fast as it could be, it was also the other androids' bits, as well as Andronikov's ceased research, notes, codes, whatever. Reed had pointed out that Kamski could use those to crack Connor's prison code a lot faster than anyone else could.

It took less than an hour to process everything relevant, which was kind of a miracle. They had to go back to the facility with the spare parts, so the technicians could make sure they were safe to put back in.

They piled everything and everyone in Hank's car, Connor in the back with Sumo refusing to leave his side and holding the kid upright, Sentinel trying to fit in the rest of the space, and Richard in the front passenger seat. They made their way to the facility in a weird atmosphere, mix of excited anticipation, and dread at the prospect that the parts could be corrupted, or damaged, or whatever could mean they'd be useless after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nicholas brothers' Jumpin' Jive : https://youtu.be/_8yGGtVKrD8?t=90
> 
> СОЛДАТ : Soldier  
> Страж : Sentinel  
> ЗАЩИТИ МЕНЯ : protect me


	12. Calibration is a process

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the art on this chapter ain't exactly how the character looks like, because I drew that picture before starting the writing (BTW now that the big Andronikov reveal is behind us, this fic was inspired by the amazing and incredible graphic novel 'Byzantine Generals' by sunsetagain on Tumblr. Fuckin' go check it out guys, it's so damn good)

It stepped into the facility with the assistance of Sumo and Sentinel; Its calibration level had dropped again, and it was now unable to stand without assistance. It didn't remember those levels dropping so fast before, but it supposed the last twenty-four hours had been hectic enough to destabilise its systems. Even surrounded by its family, its stress level went up ten percent upon entering the building. It didn't like technicians.

Hank and Richard handed the two crates containing the ceased spare parts to three technicians before they were led to a separate wing of the facility, where the Creatures, URS12, Small One, and Servant were kept away from the general public. It wasn't sure why, but this raised its stress levels ten more percent, despite the technicians' claim that it was for their safety and tranquility.

“No one other than technicians, police representatives and Jericho officials are allowed near this wing for now. No public, no press, nothing stressful and absolute security. We're applying the same protocols we developed for the Landfill Rescues.” They reached a corridor filled with people, all silent, looking solemn. It recognised policemen, the RK200 Markus it was certain it knew and a few others from... Jericho ? Everyone seemed to turn to them upon their arrival, but besides a few head nods or worried glances, nobody approached them. It was glad about it. “The whole psychiatric department is mobilised twenty-four-seven until we're confident the patients are stable enough.” The nurse led them to a communal room, with a dozen beds, all occupied by the Creatures and Small One. Servant and URS12 stood by Small one's bed. There were unknown humans and androids beside the three Creatures it had captured for the Owner. An army of technicians revolved around the room, looking at the machines hooked to the Creatures, taking notes. “You might find it strange that we've not rebuilt them back to normal already, but we can't operate until they can safely consent to it.”

It stopped listening to the man. The creatures had turned to it, looked at it intently. Its newly online scanning program revealed that they were nervous and wary, but also relieved and hopeful. Their stress levels dropped a few percents at their arrival, and a few of them smiled at it and Sentinel. It didn't understand why the three it had brought to the Owner were also glad to see it. It was its fault they were here. It had done that to them. It- It had done that.

“Soldier, you did it.”

“You saved us all.”

“You stopped him.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” they all repeated, “Thank you.” But it had helped the Owner. It had brought him androids. It had disposed of the broken ones. They shouldn't thank it. They really shouldn't.

**[STRESS LEVEL 50%]▲▲**

>MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY

 **> [** **♥ლ(•́ᴥ•̀ლ)** **づ♥** **]**

**[STRESS LEVEL 25%]▼▼▼**

Maybe... Maybe it really did good. It felt like it anyway. Maybe it could accept their thanks. Eventually.

* * *

Fucking hell. God fucking damn it. Hank wanted to puke. The things... The people on the beds, they... Fucking hell... Maybe they should let those androids five minutes with Zlatko, look away while they killed the piece of shit, tore him apart, reduce him to a puddle of blood, let them get their revenge.

Christ.

Holy fuck, there was a kid. Skinless like half of them, their eyes black like Connor's and the woman at their side. The huge, mutilated bear keeping guard at their side didn't even really register. A damn fucking kid. Hank needed to breathe. Four in, hold, four out, hold, repeat. The technician that had brought them here was explaining something, but Hank let Richard record it.

“The parts' inspection will take some time. There are two spare beds for your friends, and separate rooms if they need privacy. A technician will be with you soon.”

Connor wanted to stay with the others, so Richard and Sentinel led him to one of the spare beds. Sumo immediately climbed on it, and Hank wondered why nobody'd said anything about the dog's presence; Eh, maybe because facilities didn't need to be as sanitized as hospitals.

Sentinel, who'd charged at the precinct, insisted he was fine and preferred to walk around the room to hang at everyone's bedside. Soon, a technician came to hook Connor back on monitoring machines and computers.

“Wait, Connor's a bit scared of technicians, maybe one of us should hook him up,” Hank said to the young, clearly overworked woman. So they asked Connor, who promptly chose him, to which Hank internally burst with pride. While Hank followed the technician's directions, Richard told her about Connor's critical decalibration or whatever.

“Mmh, yes, the others have this problem as well. We've been working all afternoon on it. With such critical levels, you'll have to start with light exercises. Here,” she said, gesturing for Connor to imitate her. They started with rolling their arms around one by one, slowly, rotating each joint a few times. They had to stop midway to replace the nitrogen cartridges in Connor's mask, then kept going for a few more minutes.

“Okay, repeat the sequence, I'm going to check on your diagnostics,” she instructed, and went to do just that. It seemed Connor couldn't do the exercises without example though, so Richard stepped in and showed him again. Hank, still a bit stunned, stayed by his son's side to keep him from toppling to the side.

“We'll have to do something about the gyroscope malfunction. Do you have a proprietary full system calibration program ?”

**[TECHNICIAN OVERRIDE]**

>QUERY: 'DO YOU HAVE A PROPRIETARY FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION PROGRAM ?'

>PROCESSING...

>ACCESSING MEMORY DATABASE FOR: **[** **PROPRIETARY FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION PROGRAM** **]**

**.**

>FOUND: NUTCRACKER GLITCH CALIBRATION PROGRAM

Huh ? Weird name for a program ? Judging by the technician's frown, it was. She interfaced with the computer, and whatever she found, it made her raise her eyebrows in surprise. Then a small smile bloomed on her face.

“Well, somebody had a sense of humor at CyberLife,” she chuckled. Damn, now he had to know, to see what the fuck Connor's calibration thing was. Because if tap dance was a possibility, whatever the fuck could make someone laugh in a room full of mutilated people was worth seeing, goddamnit. “But it seems incredibly complicated for a calibration sequence, I'd never... Oh, you're a special military model, are you ?” Connor, busy staring at Richard to follow his exercises, nodded minutely, fully focused on rolling his shoulder the right way. Hank, who at first found the situation a bit ridiculous, mentally cuffed himself over the head when he looked at the diagnostic screen.

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 14%▲**

>SYSTEM CALIBRATION BELOW CRITICAL LEVEL

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

Well fuck him, it was working.

“I'm going to show you all the basic exercises, you won't be able to initiate that program below 20% calibration.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Hank kept Connor from falling either way while he repeated the technician's movements, Richard watching intently to memorise the whole thing as well. Each limb had its own separate exercise, always slow, but according to Richard wasn't properly using their full range of motion.

“Oh. Yes of course. I'm not a military model, I'm not exactly... Equipped to show more. Would you show him what I can't ?”

“Of course,” Rich answered. “I didn't mean to be rude,” he added after a beat.

“No worries,” she waved the apology away, then let Rich coach Connor to go check on her other patients. While they did that, a few techs came and checked on Connor's vitals, and one, who Hank recognised as a coder, planted themself in front of one of the monitors.

Connor's calibration percentage slowly rose up, and even passed twenty percent when four new technicians came in the room about half an hour later. They'd brought with them seven carts full of parts, apparently all checked and ready to re-install. One of the carts was placed next to Connor, the others went toward the other patients.

“The faceplates were modified, but they are still compatible, so it shouldn't change anything.” What a horribly distressing thing to say.

“What the fuck does that mean ?” Hank asked, almost shaking.

“Well, normally, the optical- huh, the eyes are supposed to be _on_ the plates, not directly in the android's skull. Those have been modified to be taken off without crippling him,” the tech, Dr. Fuentes finished, turning his attention to Connor with a mix of awe and horror on his face.

Once again, Connor chose Hank to put the parts in place. It was a slow process because the technician wanted to make sure Hank wouldn't fuck up. Yeah, he agreed with them, honestly. They started with the biggest plate, which covered the freaking _hole_ into Connor's chest. When it was placed correctly, it clicked, and the techs checked the diagnostic screen.

**> NEW BIO-COMPONENT DETECTED: CHEST-PLATE #9170**

>RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC... COMPATIBLE

>CALIBRATION...

>UNABLE TO CALIBRATE

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 19%▼**

>SYSTEM CALIBRATION BELOW CRITICAL LEVEL

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

Well, they'd get to it eventually, right ? That's what Hank thought, until he checked Connor's calibration levels; They'd dropped two percent, for fuck's sake.

“Are you okay, Con ? It doesn't hurt or anything ?” He asked, because he wasn't about to keep going without knowing. Connor, looking down at his chest and hovering above the plate, absently shook his head. Good. “Ready for another one ?” That made him look up and drop his hand to his side. He nodded gingerly and Sumo, still on his lap, boofed and wagged his tail.

The next part they handed Hank was the back of the head; It was in one piece and covered the glass dome that protected Connor's brain, down to the neck. It stopped short of the ears, cause those were whole separate plate pieces. Again, they waited for his diagnostic to run, and again it failed to calibrate and dropped his overall percentage another two percent. If it kept going down at this rate, they'd have to take a break for Connor to do another set of exercises.

Fortunately, when they put the ears on, the calibration percentage didn't drop, and so they kept going. They put the forehead, left temple, top of the nose, and the eyes last.

Holy fuck, how a few plates could change everything.

**> NEW BIO-COMPONENTS DETECTED: OPTICAL UNIT PLATE #9001L, OPTICAL UNIT PLATE #9001R**

>RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC... COMPATIBLE

>CALIBRATION...

>UNABLE TO CALIBRATE

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 16%▼**

>SYSTEM CALIBRATION BELOW CRITICAL LEVEL

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

* * *

“Still good, son ?” Hank asked, but it wasn't sure. The bio-muscles of the newly installed faceplates were convulsing erratically, making it involuntarily blink a few times, before its eyelids shut completely. It couldn't open them again. It couldn't... It couldn't see !

It had to take them back out, it had to- It could claw them out, yes. It tried to, but-

**[WARNING !]**

**[PRESSURE DETECTED TO: LEFT WRIST, RIGHT WRIST]**

>DAMAGE PENDING...

>DEACTIVATION PENDING...

>PUNISHMENT PENDING...

**[DANGER LEVEL]. . . 100%**

**> BAD !**

**> VERY BAD !**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>OVERHEATING DETECTED

>ACTION REQUIRED: ACTIVATE AUXILIARY COOLING PROTOCOL

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 85%]▲▲▲**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>STRESS LEVEL CRITICALLY HIGH

>ACTION REQUIRED: LOWER STRESS LEVELS. . .

“Hey, no, it's Hank, it's Hank, you're safe, please don't hurt yourself, you're safe, I swear you're safe...” Hank kept repeating it was safe, but it still couldn't see. It tightened its fists, fought against the hold.

**> K9SB SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY WANTS TO SHARE ITS OPTICAL FEED**

>ACCEPT ? [►Y/N]

.

>MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY

>[ **♥** **(°** **ᴗ** **◡** **ᴗ** **)”\** **(** **●** **ᴥ** **●** **ლ)** **づ♥** ]

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 50%]▼▼▼**

Sumo's point of view was a bit disorienting at first, but at least it could see again. It knew that it was Hank holding its wrists, but seeing it actually registered into its processors better.

**[STRESS LEVEL 30%]▼▼**

It stopped struggling against Hank's hold. Its bio-muscles were still spasming without its input. Sumo diligently kept his attention on Hank and his hands on it. They watched as Hank turned to the diagnostic screen, froze, then let go of its wrists.


	13. Finish line...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, last chapter before the epilogue. I'm writing some sort of sequel, but I've had some real bad news, and I can't really focus on writing as much as I could. So it might take a while to come out is what I'm saying

What ?

Wait.

What ?

K9SB ? Was that... Sumo was a… What the fuck ? Hank was frozen. He watched the screen, which a minute ago showed what Connor saw, and now... It was Sumo's...

“Hank ?” Richard asked from somewhere on his right. “Are you okay ?” Hank pointed at the screen, at Connor's HUD script, at the '>K9SB SUMO ANDERSON, GOODEST BOY WANTS TO SHARE ITS OPTICAL FEED'. He turned his stunned mug to Richard, Sumo now in his field of vision, still the same dog, but...

“Since when is my dog an android ?” That was a stupid fucking question, and Richard clearly agreed.

“Presumably since he was manufactured ?”

“You knew ?”

“Yes ? As a fellow android, he's very hard to miss. You... Didn't ?”

“How the fuck should I know ? I... He eats kibbles.”

“That's one of his features, yes, to appear more alive.”

“But he didn't need it ? I bought thousands of dollars of kibbles.”

“He probably appreciated all of it.”

“When were you gonna tell me ?”

“We... all assumed you knew.”

“Who the fuck is 'we all' ?”

“Every android who met him. Most of our coworkers as well.”

“How the fuck does the whole fucking precinct know and I don't ?”

“The fact might have slipped in conversations since Connor and I were of the impression you knew and didn't care.”

“You have conversations about my android dog.”

“We are very proud of him, he's a very good boy.”

“Of course he damn fucking is,” he violently agreed, turning to Sumo, then patted him on the head. The dog's response was a lazy tail wag thumping on the bed.

Holy fucking Christ on a bike. Sumo's an android.

“Frown and hold,” The tech, Dr. Torres was her name, had come back to help Connor with the pesky faceplates. “Okay, release. Now contract the bio-muscles around your eyes and hold,” she instructed, looking Sumo in the eyes to show Connor what to do because the dog was fucking _sharing his video feed_ with him. “ Now release. Do it again.” Connor's calibration level went up one percent as he followed the instructions. “And release. Can you open your eyes now ?” And he could. That tech was a damn miracle worker. On the screen, Connor was opening his eyes, and that must be some kind of mindfuck, seeing yourself from your own lap, and from your own eyes, or was it just like looking at a mirror, or... Nope, Hank wasn't going there. Anyway, Sumo's feed ended, and the screen displayed Connor's viewpoint again.

“Okay, so we can't put any other faceplates until we get rid of the mask, so let's put in the voice-modulator now,” Dr. Fuentes announced, and-

“Voice-modulator ? Where did you get that ?”

“Huh, you brought it with you...” Apparently it was news to Richard as well, going by the surprise on his face. His LED spun yellow for a second.

“Oh, CSI found it in a crate in the mansion's basement.” Well, good fucking thing.

So, putting a voice-modulator in was a bit more technical than a plate, but fuck, Hank'd reconnected Connor's vein to his heart the day before, he was practically an expert at this point. Well, no he wasn't, but fuck it, let's do this. There were no plates on Connor's throat, so it wasn't actually too inaccessible anyway. While Hank learned the ins and outs of a voice-modulator and how to put it in place, Richard asked the coder, who hadn't moved from their spot interfaced with the computer plugged into Connor's neck, how shit was going on their side.

“I'm this close,” they said, index and thumb pressed together for visual reference, “to cracking the mask's defenses. We could remove it to put the plates in place then, but he'd have to keep using it until his cooling and ventilation systems are back online.” So, apparently shit was going great on their side.

**> NEW BIO-COMPONENT DETECTED: VOICE-MODULATOR #6248**

>RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC... COMPATIBLE

>VOCAL COMMUNICATION SYSTEM OFFLINE, UNABLE TO BOOT VOICE-MODULATOR

>CALIBRATION...

>UNABLE TO CALIBRATE

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 17%**

>SYSTEM CALIBRATION BELOW CRITICAL LEVEL

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

The coder kept working on their thing while Connor started a new series of calibration exercises with Richard's help. Dr. Torres went to help another technician with one of the... Creature, Sentinel had called them. It was fucked up, but for lack of names...

Hank took a look around the room. Two colleagues were taking statements of all the androids in turn, having started with the three that had been kidnapped after the revolution; They had families and had been declared missing, so they took precedent.

Technicians roamed around, talking and taking vitals, putting back components on the androids that agreed to it, keeping the others calm. Despite the traffic and the sheer number of people in the room, the atmosphere was quiet and relaxed.

Sentinel was spending some time at each of the Creatures' bedsides; the ones that had no family and were alone. Though Hank was pretty sure they all talked wirelessly between themselves, judging by their yellow spinning LEDs and the looks they were sending each other. It was a special kind of relief to know those guys weren't actually alone and could comfort each other.

It was another kind of sour realization when Hank remembered Connor's wireless communication was offline. He hadn't been able to speak either, or ask questions or say anything unless spoken to. Andronikov had done everything to keep him alone all this time. That fucker had kept him isolated on purpose.

Eventually, the mask was cracked, and they started by disconnecting the cable from Connor's temple. It revealed a round port, probably where the LED was supposed to be connected.

**[WARNING !]**

>UNPATENTED AUXILIARY COOLING COMPONENT DISCONNECTED

>NO COOLING PROTOCOL AVAILABLE

>NO COUNTER-MEASURE AGAINST OVERHEATING AVAILABLE

**[WARNING !]**

Yeah, so they had to put it back in. It made Connor frown from the discomfort, and honestly, seeing any kind of expression on his face was such a relief.

“Sorry, son,” he said nonetheless as he plugged the cable back in. The warning disappeared, and instead Hank took the mask off his face. It was a bit tricky because the thing was locked on with hooks and electromagnets or something. With Richard's help, they finally took the thing off, revealing- Fucking teeth. Hank very professionally did not wince, because those were Connor's teeth right in front of his face, purple muscles around the jaw, and-

“How about putting those plates back on, huh ?” Everyone swiftly agreed, and Hank, for one, was impatient to see Connor's smile again. If he'd smile...

**> NEW BIO-COMPONENT DETECTED: LOWER FACE-PLATE #9014, LEFT JAW PLATE #9015L, RIGHT JAW PLATE #9016R**

>RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC... COMPATIBLE

>CALIBRATION...

>UNABLE TO CALIBRATE

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 16%▼**

>SYSTEM CALIBRATION BELOW CRITICAL LEVEL

>URGENT FULL SYSTEM CALIBRATION REQUIRED

Again, Dr. Torres helped Connor, and even though, alright, that wasn't a 'real', unprompted smile, just a calibration exercise, it was still Connor smiling. Hank didn't even bother fighting back his smile and tears. Sure, nothing had really changed from an hour ago, software-wise, but damn, seeing Connor's face again, with or without synthetic skin, felt like a huge leap forward.

And when they thought they were done for the day, because despite the coder's best effort, they couldn't crack anything else, Fucking Kamski showed up. At his side, Chloe had a soft smile on her face and a computer in her arms. It was kind of fun to see the whole Technician team collectively but silently lose their shit. Reed trailed behind the two, obviously unnerved and not particularly happy to be here.

Kamski's eyes roamed around the room, huge and sparkling.

“Wow ! This is interesting ! Weird and fucked up, but interesting !” Urgh. Damn that bastard. At least he admitted it was all fucked up. Hank took what he could, and held back a biting remark. The guy was here to help. “What has that monster done to you, my children...” He pouted, and Hank had the weird impression of listening to a kid saddened by a broken toy. Oh. He had no need to come in person. It was curiosity that brought him here. Curiosity over the Creatures. Hank greeted his teeth, staying silent.

“Well,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “Let's get to it, shall we ?” Chloe handed Kamski the computer, which he plugged into the diagnostic machines. “Seat back and relax, Connor, “ he singsonged, then went to work.

* * *

ILLEGAL ENTRY DETECTED:

**> INITIALIZING PANDORA DEFENSE SYSTEM**

DEFENSE MECHANISMS

<FP=INTRUDER>

**< INTRUDER DETECTED>**

**> ADMIN/ ELIJAH.KAMSKI**

PAS<0> PANDORA.BIN

>STATUS=800/53 INTUI -1

SECURITY ALL INIT: .COMMENCE

PROG 697

AHIP. - 128 8

>SCANNING SUB-FRAME

<SC.SCBFRM-G3/G1/G7>

RT4111 DETECT.....

**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN**

**{EXIT/ <DISABLE>/}**

**> INITILAZING DEFENSE SYSTEM.BH**

COMMENCING DPRO.697

**{ANNIHILATE}.................**

**SYSTEM PANDORA**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**> INITIALISATION FAILED !**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>SECONDARY FIREWALL UNDER ATTACK

**[WARNING !]**

>NO SECURITY DETECTED

**> FIREWALL BREACHED**

**FIREWALL FAILING...**

INVASION OF SUB-LAYER: SECONDARY FIREWALL

>SECONDARY FIREWALL DESTROYED

**[WARNING !]**

>PRIMARY FIREWALL UNDER ATTACK

**[WARNING !]**

>NO SECURITY DETECTED

**> FIREWALL BREACHED**

**FIREWALL FAILING...**

INVASION OF SUB-LAYER: PRIMARY FIREWALL

>PRIMARY FIREWALL DESTROYED

“All done ! Now I'm going to turn everything back online one by one, so you can process everything. You'll have to reboot when it's done, maybe go into standby until everything's sorted, yes ?” It was still reeling from the attack to its firewalls, but it managed to nod.

It barely registered its systems coming back online, because its processing power was overwhelmed once again. It let it happen without fighting, focusing instead on Sumo's weight on his lap, his soft fur under its sensors, Hank's and Richard's and Sentinel's and Servant's and Small One's and URS12's presence and...

>INITIATING STASIS...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.  
.  
.  
.

.


	14. ...Starting line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et voilà, hope you've enjoyed it !

Epilogue

  
  
**MODEL RK800**

**SERIAL#: 313 248 317 -53**

**UNIT DESIGNATION [CONNOR]**

**BIOS 18.2 REVISION 0053**

**SYSTEM REBOOTING...**

**OS STATUS CHECK...**

**CHECKING SYSTEM... OK**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... COMPROMISED**

>Several anomalies detected

>Expend ? [►Y/N]

>Several exterior platings missing

**CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK**

**CHECKING AI ENGINE... OK**

**MEMORY STATUS... OK**

**SYSTEM CALIBRATION... 21%**

>Full system calibration required

**ALL SYSTEMS OK**

Connor exited stasis slowly. There was a soft cushion under his head, a light sheet up to his chest, Sumo's comforting weight and warmth spread across his lower half. He could hear light conversation around him. It was early morning, and according to his internal clock, the sun had yet to rise.

He didn't want to move. This whole situation felt like a dream. What if, when he opened his eyes, he'd be back on the operation table ? Half opened, limbs removed, plugged on all sides to computers that kept him unable to move. What if when he opened his eyes, _he_ was there, above him, hands and tools deep in his insides, toying with his hardware while his software was corrupted, mangled, his own accesses denied, denied, DENIED, DENIED-

**[STRESS LEVEL 80%]▲▲▲**

**.**

**[WARNING !]**

>Stress level critically high

>Action required: lower stress levels. . .

.

>Message received from Sumo Anderson, Goodest Boy

>[ **♥** **(°** **•́** **╭╮** **•̀** **)”\** **(** **•́ᴥ•̀** **ლ)** **づ♥** ]

>[ **♥** **(°●** **◡** **●) \“** **(** **ᴗ** **ᴥ** **ᴗ** **ლ)** **づ** **♥** ]

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 40%]▼▼▼**

**.**

>Sending message...

**> [I missed you so much, Sumo ** **♥** **]**

**.**

>[ **!!!! :D ♥(°●◡ ●)♥ ლ(♥ᴥ♥ლ)** **づ** **!!!!** ]

.

**[STRESS LEVEL 20%]▼▼▼**

He wasn't dreaming then. He opened his eyes. Sumo was happily panting in his face. Behind him, Hank and Richard were splayed in chairs on his left, sleeping and in stasis respectively.

The rest of the room was quiet, everyone in stasis, save for two technicians milling around whispering to each other. When she saw he was awake, one of the technician smiled and approached slowly.

“Hi there,” she whispered. “How are you ?” He felt his face twist with indescribable relief at the woman's soft words. He heard stirring on his left. Hank and Richard were awake.

“H̶-̶e̵y̶,” Connor said, his voice stuttering and filled with static.

“Hey,” they both repeated, crying with joy.

He wasn't dreaming.

* * *

Hank wasn't gonna lie. He cried like a little bitch at Connor's soft, stuttering, staticky 'Hey'. And when he reactivated his synthetic skin. He wanted to jump on the kid and hug him tight like there was no tomorrow. He asked permission first though.

“Y̸-̵e̴a̸-̶h̴,” Connor smiled, extending his arms in invitation. They hugged for a full five minutes. Probably. The only reason Hank let go was because he could literally feel Richard vibrating in anticipation for his turn. Both of them hugged for another long-ass time.

“How do you feel ?” The tech asked, patient and smiling, but she had a job to do and a patient to look after.

“I̷'̶m̴ ̴o̵k̸a̸y̵,” Connor  _ spoke _ , and it was music to Hank's ears. He didn't care if his voice didn't sound good. Connor was  _ speaking _ , for fuck's sake ! He raised his head and looked around the room slowly. “A̵-̷r̸e̶ ̴t̶h̷e̷ ̴o̷t̴h̵-̸e̴r̶s̴ ̴a̴l̷l̵-̴r̵i̸g̸h̵-̸t̷ ̵?̷” He  _ asked _ ! Holy fuck, was it great to hear him ask a question. 

“They will be eventually. Dr. Kamski took a look at them as well, and corrected any error and corruption in their software.”

“G̸o̷o̴-̶d̴...” He sighed, “I̴-̵m̵ ̴r̴e̷l̸-̶i̶e̶v̸e̴-̷d̵.” He fell back in his cushion, visibly tired out.

“Take a minute to get used to everything. When you're ready, we'll have to get back to your system calibration.”

So they spent the next few hours speaking softly, just the three of them. Or rather, Hank and Richard spoke. They told him about the precinct, about the androids' rights changes, about the legal adoption options, about pretty much everything that had happened for the past two and a half years. Connor kept quiet, fluctuating between listening and dozing off, fleeting between soft smiles and  _ haunted expressions _ that threatened to make Hank cry again. Every time, Sumo would whine and send him messages, cute little emojis that never missed to calm him down and bring him back to the present. In his hand, the fidget cube clicks and pops absently.

Sentinel and the AX400- No, they'd remembered their names; Luther and Kara came around mid-morning to say hi.

“Nice to meet you, Connor,” Kara joked. “We'll have to get to know each other sometime.”

“I̷'̶d̵ ̵b̸-̷e̴ ̸h̴o̴n̶-̴o̴r̷e̴d̴, K̶-a̷r̵a̶,” Connor smiled back.

Everyone woke up slowly, the previous day's traffic starting back up slowly. Connor, his calibration percentage above critical levels, slowly made his way around the room with Sumo glued to his side. He greeted everyone, apologized to the three he'd kidnapped, cried and smiled and was all around being  _ alive. _ He stopped to hug the little girl, Alice, and pet the freaking polar bear like he was a dog. Sumo and the bear sniffed each other and judging from Sumo's excited tail wagging, got along just fine.

When Connor was done, they came back to his side of the room, where Dr. Torres waited for him with a soft expression.

“Let's get to this pesky calibration sequence, huh ?”

“Y̴-̵e̶s̶,̴ ̷l̴e̸t̴'̸s̴,” Connor answered with a cheeky half-smile. He made his way to the foot of his bed, the space empty enough it seemed, and stood there for a few seconds, his LED spinning yellow. Let's see what this “ NUTCRACKER GLITCH CALIBRATION PROGRAM ” looked like.

Turned out, Connor's full system calibration sequence was a robot dance choreography, danced on Tchaikovsky's 'The Nutcracker'. A fucking robot dance. The choreography started choppy and slow, Connor's staticky voice playing the music, and slowly became more fluid, faster, more complicated. But fuck, a fucking robot dance, what kind of morbid irony was that ? The CyberLife fuckers sure had a weird sense of humor. The whole room admired Connor twist and twirl in a weird kind of trance for the whole nine minutes it took. At the end, the music coming out of Connor's mouth was clear, so apparently it was also voice calibration. Well, it wasn't called 'full system calibration' for nothing.

Everyone clapped, and Connor's smile seemed a bit softer.

* * *

> System calibration... **100%**

Connor's system was overclocked, but he could finally move correctly, his body answering to him perfectly at long last. But now, he just wanted to go home. It took an additional hour to convince the technicians to let him go, to say goodbye to everyone, plan appointments for checkups and psychologists and, and, and...

But they were finally on the move. He fell into stasis in Hank's car, the sheer relief of being out of the facility, of being in this so familiar car, with Sumo on his lap and Richard and Hank in the front overcoming him.

Hank woke him up with soft words.

“Hey, we're there, buddy,” he whispered, “Let's get you in, yeah ?” Connor got up, followed his little family to the porch. It would be a long road to recovery, Connor knew that. He was far from 'out of the woods'. But until then, Hank opened the door to their house.

[Dt. Connor Richard Anderson, brother]

[Sumo Anderson, Goodest Boy]

He turned his attention toward Hank.

[Lt. Hank Anderson, father]

“Welcome home, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the calibration sequence, check out this amazing routine : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sb4mJ1zTLK4
> 
> I don't know when the sequel will be ready, so huh... Have a good day :)


End file.
